Dagor Dagorath: The End of the World as We Know It
by theofoz
Summary: Love, loss, and courage at the end of the Age of Man. A small band of elves watches over the last children of Numenor as Earth is consumed in a spasm of destruction, from parched California to the killing fields of Afghanistan and all the way to Valinor. Legomance, but incidental to the story, and faithful to canon, even though modern day AU.
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: My friend, Pheas, and I have been writing this together for some time. We have no intent to distribute or commercialize, but rather have been writing this for our own personal enjoyment, but it would sure enhance our personal enjoyment if you would R&amp;R! Middle Earth and all its inhabitants belong only to the brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien._**

**CHAPTER ONE: The Past is Prologue**

**_The Third Prophecy of Mandos_**

_In the Seventh Age of Man _

_The song will end as it began_

_A breach in the Door of Night_

_Hate and rage stir the fight_

_Discord haunts the dying lands_

_Destiny rests in the walker's hands_

_His duty to guide the Dunedain_

_A strong bond, the dark's bane_

_To the stones, borne of a father's death_

_Exhaled in long mountain's breath_

_Only then will the children of Eru rise_

_For the final battle as Arda dies_

_Then the song will start again_

_And end forever the Age of Men._

From where they stood on the hillside among the trees, the two men watching the burial were hardly noticeable, which was by design. They were not particularly welcome, so they kept their distance.

Even from a distance, however, they could hear the sobbing woman next to the coffin. She was hunched over, a thick veil obscuring her face. There were two small children next to her, holding hands.

The two men watched as the soldiers handed the woman the folded flag and the coffin was lowered into the grave. The mourners filed past the diminished family, hugging the woman and attempting to comfort the children, who clung to each other. Once everyone had gone, the smaller child, a boy, went to his mother, holding his arms out, but the woman turned and walked unsteadily away, either not noticing or not wanting to embrace the child.

The two men on the hillside exchanged glances.

"They are the last chance," one murmured. "We shall have to take measures."

"What if we fail again?" the other whispered back. "All will be lost."

"You will not fail," interrupted a soft voice from behind the two men.

"My lady!" exclaimed the first man. His tawny hair was gathered back into a braid, which whipped over his shoulder as he turned to look at the woman moving through the trees toward them. Both men bowed as she approached. Her face was almost entirely shrouded by a greenish gray cloak that melted into the landscape.

"It has been a long time since we have seen you in this world," the other man remarked, and the woman inclined her head toward him.

The braided man, who was not, after all, entirely a man, cleared his throat. "My lady Melian, you should know that it does not often end well, when we seek to help," he gestured vaguely toward the open grave.

"You are not to blame, Elrond," the woman countered, frowning at him. "Humans make their own choices. You know that."

He bowed his head.

"In any case, it was not time. You cannot rush destiny."

"Yes," the other elf remarked dryly, "after nearly 5,000 years on this Earth, Legolas remains a young man in a hurry."

The woman laughed. "I see this age agrees with you, dear Glorfindel."

He grimaced, running a hand through his short, blond hair and tugging at the tie around his neck. "We all play our parts," he shrugged.

"And now I shall play mine," Melian said softly, staring at Elrond. "It has been too long since I looked after my own kin." Both men started, and Elrond touched a hand to his heart.

"The Maiar are here," he said wonderingly. "Then it must be time."

"Yes, it is time," she agreed.

"Dagor Dagorath," Glorfindel whispered. "The battle of battles."

"We must keep them safe and make sure they are ready," she nodded in the direction the children had gone, and glanced meaningfully at the ring on her finger, which sparkled in the wintry sun. The men's eyes widened.

"Should we bring Legolas back?" Glorfindel finally asked.

"No, leave him be. We shall call on him in due time," she answered. "Elrond, you must go to them now."

"I will not be welcome. Their mother will recognize me," he warned.

"I am counting on it," she responded, voice low and ominous as a storm cloud. "Trust me: she is in no condition to refuse your help."

Elrond bowed to the cloaked woman.

"Now," she said in a disconcertingly lighter tone, "tell me about this, what do they call it? 20th century?"

"21st now," Elrond corrected.

"Indeed. I have much to learn," she smiled at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN: There really is a part of Afghanistan called Mordar Koh and there really is a volcano by this name! Again, we write this for our personal enjoyment, but we also really enjoy reviews. Setting now is present day. Pheas &amp; Theo_**

**CHAPTER TWO: The Inheritance**

Sophia and Brandon sat on the floor of their mother's silent apartment. There was, after all, nothing else to sit on. The place was completely empty, except for their own suitcases.

"I never loved her," Sophia announced.

"Soph!" her brother scolded.

"It's true," she shot back calmly. "You know it is. And neither did you."

He shrugged. "But what good is it to talk about it? She's gone."

"Aren't you still angry at her? Because I am."

He shrugged again. "She had a hard life and she died hard. I just feel sorry for her." His bright blue eyes were kind, as always. "It will only make you feel bad to stay angry, Soph."

Sophia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hated it when Brandon sounded more grown up than she did.

"We should probably go see the lawyer now, though I doubt she left us anything."

Brandon nodded. "She had very little to give."

Sophia sighed and rose gracefully to her feet, offering her brother a hand up.

She was right, of course. Her mother had left them nothing; the apartment was a rental and even her furniture and jewelry had been sold to pay off her credit card debt.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," the lawyer said with efficient kindness. "There's just one more thing." He held an envelope out to Sophia.

"What's this?" she asked.

"I don't know," the lawyer smiled. "But your mother left instructions that you were to have it in the event of her death."

She opened the envelope and pulled out a notecard with a set of keys taped to it. There was an address of a bank printed at the top, and a handwritten note scrawled beneath.

"I am sorry I wasn't a better mother, but I always loved you and just wanted to keep you safe. Take care of your brother."

"Looks like keys to a safety deposit box," the lawyer observed, and she looked at him sharply. He held up both hands. "The estate has been settled. No one else has a claim if it's something of value."

"Not likely," Sophia scoffed.

"Maybe it will have some sentimental value," the lawyer said, not very discreetly looking at his watch. He was now fifteen minutes into no longer making money on this client and needed to move on.

"Thank you for your help," Brandon said, standing up and holding out his hand. The lawyer shook it heartily.

"My pleasure, young man. And you let me know when you're done with college if you decide to go to law school. I'd be glad to have you work here in the summers."

"Thank you, sir," Brandon said with a smile, hurrying after his sister, who had already stomped out the door.

"I'm the one that's in law school," she fumed. "The only way you'd ever be a lawyer is if you could represent robots. Or Dr. Spock."

"That's Mr. Spock, Soph. Dr. Spock is someone else. And you know any firm would be lucky to have you. As far as I know you've never lost an argument."

"Very funny," she grumped. "Suck up."

He held his hand out and took the card from her, his face carefully blank.

"Sorry, Bran," Sophia whispered, knowing that he would be hurt that his mother had no last words for her son. But he just shrugged.

"Let's go see if our mother left us any legacies other than disappointment, shall we?"

Sophia gave him a fierce hug. They left the building arm in arm.

A couple of hours later, they were back in the empty apartment they had shared with their mother, a small box on the floor between them.

"Well," said Sophia, reaching for it, "bombs away." She slipped the knife she always kept strapped to her forearm into her hand and slit the package open carefully. Reaching inside, she pulled out a bundle of letters, frowning as she examined the one on the top of the stack. They were all to her and Brandon, though she didn't recognize the address - a post office box in Culver City. Her eyes widened as she recognized the return address.

"Oh my God," she breathed, flipping quickly through the stack. "Brandon." she said helplessly, looking at him in shock.

"What?" he answered, alarmed, reaching for the letters in her nerveless fingers.

"He did write to us. She just didn't let us have them."

He knew right away who she meant, and eagerly slipped the first letter out of the stack.

They were up half the night reading the letters from their grandfather. He had raised them for most of their childhood, after their father died and until their mother had taken them away and swallowed them into her rootless life.

"What else is in there?" Sophia said tiredly, nudging her chin at the box.

Brandon held up the box and reached in. "It's another box," he said, holding it up.

"It's probably like those nesting dolls," Sophia commented, setting aside her grandfather's last letter. "Just a bunch of boxes, each one smaller than the last."

"No, there's definitely something inside," he said, lifting the cover off the box. A folded piece of paper fell out, along with something shiny.

"See?" Sophia laughed. "It's another box!"

"Yeah, but look at it," Brandon said, picking it up. "It's obsidian. It's warm, Sophia, and it's sort of vibrating. It almost feels as though there's a motor or something inside." He held it out to her, but she had already reached for the paper.

"What's it say?" he asked absently, continuing to stare at the smooth object, turning it over and over in his fingers. He was so entranced he didn't notice that Sophia was as still and pale as a marble statue.

"You need to hear this, Bran," she said in a husky, low voice. "It's from our father."

He looked up so sharply, he almost dropped the box.

"What?"

"Dear Sophia and Brandon," she started slowly, "we're in the city for a couple of days, so this is a good time to write. I've been wanting to, anyway - I don't want you guys to forget me. But also, something happened that I have to tell you about."

"We've been running missions out into different parts of Afghanistan, and last week, we were in a place called Ghazni. It actually reminds me of home. There's a dry, flat valley, though it's more like a fine mud here than it is like the Mojave sand. It's surrounded by high mountains, just like home."

"We were up in the mountains, near an old volcano when something strange happened. I was just saying to my guys that we were lucky the volcano was extinct when we heard this heavily accented voice say that Dacht-i-Navar was not extinct, just dormant. I swear, I nearly jumped right out of my skin."

"The voice belonged to this tiny, ancient man, as gnarled as an old tree stump, with a huge, tangled beard. I swear there were birds nesting in that thing. But there was something about his eyes - they twinkled and flashed with life, as though he were laughing at everything."

"But that's not the strange part. This little old man knew my name. He called me by my name and asked to speak to me alone."

"Now ordinarily, I would never let any of my guys go off alone with a tribesman, let alone one that knew their names. But there was something about this man. I knew he had something to tell me, and that he wouldn't tell me in front of anyone else, so I went with him back into the hills."

"He took me to a cave, and that worried me for a minute, because we knew the men we were looking for were hiding in some caves, and they were very bad men."

"But this little guy just made this sort of clucking sound in his throat and told me the men I was looking for were not there. They were in mountains north and east of where we were. Then he said he had something for me, only it wasn't really for me."

"He said it was for my children, Sophia and Brandon. I am serious. The guy could barely even speak English and had probably never been off that mountain, and he called you by your names and said you were "the children of prophecy." That reminded me of stories my mother used to tell me, and I promise I'll tell them to you when I get home."

"He gave me a rough, burlap sack, and showed me that inside was a container, made out of a shiny, black rock. When I touched it, it gave me a mild shock, like when you run your socks across the carpet and touch someone."

"He told me I could sense the gem inside the box, and that it was very, very important that no one but you two touch the stone. He said it would drive most people mad or burn them, but would be especially dangerous in this evil place. I think he called it Mordar Koh, and I thought that was funny. It reminded me of those old stories again."

"Then the old guy told me to send the box to you right away because I was running out of time."

"At that point, I'd had enough. I backed out of the cave, but I did keep the little sack. I didn't tell anyone else about it, just what he said about the men we were looking for."

"So that's when we came back to the city, and here we are. I decided I needed to open this box before I sent it to you - I mean, who knew what was in there. It really is a gemstone, though, and the most beautiful one I've ever seen in my life, but I took the guy's advice and didn't touch it."

"I can't explain why, but I believe that little old man, that this is something the two you need to have. One of the soldiers I work with is about to fly home, and I've asked him to carry a package for you with him and mail it once he gets to the States. I know that's probably not the safest way to send a jewell to you, but it's all I can do right now."

"I'm getting a bad feeling I will never see the two of you again, and I can't tell you how sad that makes me. I would have liked nothing better than to watch you grow up. Take good care of each other and of your mother, and know that I always loved you and loved being your father."

Sophia was silent for a moment. "There's a P.S.," she noted softly. "It says, Jeannie, if you're reading this letter, do not open this box, whatever you do. You don't have to give it to the kids until they are older, but do not open the box."

They looked at each other.

"Right," Sophia finally said. "What do you want to bet she immediately opened the box?"

"Well, that explains a lot," Brandon said softly. "The man said it would make her crazy, and she was already broken up about dad."

"Wait, you believe all this?" she exclaimed. "That there's some mystical rock in there?" Brandon didn't say anything. He just held out the container again, and Sophia took it from him this time, her eyes widening as she felt a tingling spiral up her arm and across her shoulders, and a presence brush her mind, almost like a warm caress.

"Ohhh," she breathed. "Right," she sighed, clutching the box to her chest.

"What do we do now?" Brandon whispered, gesturing around the empty room.

"Let's get some sleep," she said, rolling out a sleeping bag. "And in the morning, we go back to the desert."


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN: As always, we write for our own personal enyoyment. Pheas &amp;Theo_**

**CHAPTER THREE: You Can't Go Home Again**

Sophia wrenched the door open and dropped her suitcase inside the front hallway.

"Honey, I'm hooome," she sang out into the silence. "Just you and me and the cacti now," she chuckled to her brother, who crowded into the hall behind her. "All the prickly things, alone together, just the way we like it."

He rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself."

Sophia wrinkled her nose at the dusty, stale air and Brandon began moving around the house, opening windows. It looked as though a cleaning service had been through the place, but nothing could wipe away the smell of emptiness. The house had been abandoned for years, ever since their grandfather had departed.

His letters said he had to leave California on business, which was strange, because as far as they knew, he was retired. But he told them he would never stop hoping they would come back and would leave the key in its usual place. They should always consider his house their own, he said, and he would know if they returned and would come for them.

She scowled. If she had known any sooner he was looking for them, they could have run away from their mother a long time ago. Sophia would have never gone with her in the first place, but Brandon was only 12 when Jeannie had shown up for one of her visits, only this time, she had a social worker with her and said they would be coming when she left. Sophia had gotten into a furious screaming match with her mother, and Jeannie had told her she would bring the police, too, if anyone forced the matter. That was when she dropped the bombshell that the man they had been living with for almost ten years was not actually their grandfather. He had not denied it. "It is complicated," he had murmured.

"We were happy here," Sophia sighed, picking up a picture of the man she stubbornly continued to think of as her grandfather. She was maybe seven years old in the photo and Brandon was four, sitting behind her on a horse. Their grandfather was holding the bridle, smiling broadly at the camera. That was just about a year after her father died and her mother disappeared for the first time.

She sighed again, running a finger gently across the photo and placing it carefully back on the shelf.

Later that night, she was stirring a pot of noodles on the stove when she heard a knock at the front door. Frowning, she wiped her hands on a towel and craned her neck out toward the vestibule.

"Who in the world could that be?" she said, looking at her brother, who shrugged. "You didn't tell anyone where we were going, did you?" He shook his head.

The door had clouded glass bricks around it, so they could see that someone was definitely there. Sophia rummaged in her purse for her pepper spray, just in case, and strode to the door.

"Who is it?" she said, once she was at the door.

"Hi there," came a male voice she did not recognize, "is Ron here? I'm a good friend of his."

"Not good enough to know he's gone, apparently," Brandon muttered, coming up behind her.

"He's not here right now," Sophia answered smoothly. "Sorry."

"Could I come in and wait for him, maybe? You must be Sophia - it's Acharnor Silvane. You can call me Archie, though. He's told me so much about you, and I'm sure he's mentioned me."

Sophia could dimly remember her grandfather and his friends talking about someone named Acharnor so she opened the door a bit.

"Archie, I'm sorry, but you can't come in right now. Grandfather won't be back any time soon." Brandon poked her in the back to let her know she'd just said too much.

Her eyes widened as she saw their visitor slip a hand in the open door, and she gripped the pepper spray in her pocket.

"I really need to talk to him about something," the sleek-haired man said in a deep voice that sent prickles up the back of her neck. "I was driving by when I saw the lights on, and I figured he was here. Do you know where he is?"

"He's not coming back here," she repeated softly, narrowing her eyes. Brandon put his hand on her shoulder, making eye contact with the stranger.

"I'm sorry you came out this way for nothing," Brandon said, his voice hard. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're in the middle of dinner." Sophia started to shut the door.

The man glanced at Brandon warily, and then his eyes flicked to the doorframe, as though calculating whether he could push his way in. When his gaze landed on Sophia's hand, however, he froze. "That's a nice ring you're wearing, Sophia," he said quietly, staring at her.

"I don't want to disturb you," he finally relented, with what he surely meant to be a reassuring smile. "If you hear from him, could you just let him know I have to talk to him? Or if you need a friend, you can call me, too. Here's my card," he put it on the ground and pushed it under the door with his foot.

"Thanks. We'll let him know." Sophia closed the door firmly, locking it, and then ran from room to room, closing all of the windows.

"Why did you tell him grandfather wasn't coming back here?" Brandon said quietly when she came back into the kitchen.

She shrugged. "There was something really creepy about that guy, Bran. I just really wanted him to leave and not come back."

"Well, I think telling him we were here alone probably wasn't the best way to make sure he wouldn't come back."

She pushed her hand through her hair. "Come on, Bran. Don't be mad at me."

He smiled and punched her shoulder. "I'm not. You know I'm not. He just seemed awfully interested in you - and in your ring," he added thoughtfully, nodding at it.

"Yeah," she said. "Maybe he thought we were married or something and you were about to wreck him."

Brandon snorted. "Don't think so, dear sister. He knew who you were, and even if he didn't already know who I was, it's pretty obvious we're siblings."

"So I'm told," she acknowledged. Except that people always thought Brandon was handsome, with his tousled dark curls, bright, blue eyes, and long, rangy frame. No one seemed to find the same traits as attractive on her. She could blame it on her grandfather, she supposed. He basically raised them both to be boys. Her childhood, until her mother took them away, was all riding, hunting, and camping in the desert and up in the mountains with her grandfather and his cronies.

"He was definitely staring at the ring," Brandon insisted, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, Melia did say it would keep us safe, didn't she?" Sophia sighed. "You know, maybe living alone in the middle of the desert wasn't such a great idea, after all."

"Now you're worrying too much," Brandon smiled. "We'll be fine."

She nodded absently, "Maybe we should go looking for them. Melia, Del, the others. Maybe they'll know where Grandfather is."

"Yeah," Brandon agreed, yawning, "tomorrow morning. Late morning. Let me sleep in, okay? I hardly slept at all last night."

"Lazybones," she joked, though in truth, she had not slept, either.

"That's right," he smiled, "and I'm taking my lazy bones to bed. Don't stay up too long." He kissed his sister on the cheek.

Sophia waited until she heard Brandon leave the bathroom and go into his bedroom. Then she took out the letter from her father and read it again carefully. The date was only two days before he died, in circumstances the Army had never fully explained. Did it have something to do with the little old man and his stone? Or maybe he had just found the bad guys in their cave?

Sophia sat, staring blankly at the letter for a good 20 minutes, rubbing her temples absently. Then she rose suddenly and crept down the hall to her old bedroom, which looked exactly the same as it did on the day she left it, more than six years before.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR: Deserted and Discovered**

The first light of morning slanted gently onto Sophia's face, waking her up. She groaned and rolled away, licking her cracked lips.

"I am never, ever pulling an all nighter again," she muttered, smashing her face into the pillow. She groaned again and sat up slowly, sliding herself to the end of the bed and then lurching to her feet. After rinsing her face off and chugging a glass of water, she decided the best thing would be to sweat it out. She changed into her running clothes.

This time of year, the high desert was cool and crisp in the early mornings, with the setting moon etched in the clear blue sky. Sophia set out across the sand, soon loosening up and hitting her stride. She raced a rattlesnake undulating across the sand at one point. Sidewinders could move fast when they wanted to, which wasn't very often, given their preference for leisurely sunbathing, but they weren't aggressive. Unless you were a mouse, of course.

Up ahead, there was a good pile of red rocks, and she scrambled right up them to the top. When she was growing up, you could see nothing but Joshua Trees from this perch, with just a few scattered houses rising up like random haystacks across an empty field. Except the field wasn't so empty anymore, she noticed, chalking that up to the LA hipsters having discovered the area. But then she frowned, realizing there weren't very many Joshua Trees anymore. Was is possible that these people were cutting them down?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The heady morning aroma of creosote and sage rose up off the desert floor, surrounding her. This was the time of day her grandfather said belonged to the birds, because it seemed as though every winged creature was out singing, chirping, or cooing. Just then, the distinctive haw-haw-hawing of a cactus wren looking for a mate cut across the beautiful cacophony. She silently wished him luck.

Later that morning, freshly showered, she sat down with a cup of coffee. "Almost human again," she sighed.

"That's debatable," her brother said as he walked into the kitchen in his running clothes

"You're just getting started?" she scoffed. "I've been up for hours."

He shrugged. "It's not like we have places to go and people to see."

"Ah, but we do, brother of mine. We're going grandfather hunting today."

"Do I have time for a run?"

"Well, if they haven't all gone away already, another hour won't make any difference," she teased. "Go right ahead. It's a beautiful morning out there."

Later, Sophia and Brandon got into their ancient VW bug, which Brandon was always taking apart and "making better," and went in seach of Elroy Lindon. Elroy was a distant cousin of their grandfather and a good friend who had lived out in the desert for a long time. He would know more about where their grandfather had gone.

As they pulled into Elroy's driveway, Sophia had a sinking feeling. The house looked awfully still. Sure enough, there was no answer when Brandon knocked on the door. They walked around to the side yard, where there were floor to ceiling windows. Looking around nervously, Sophia boosted Bran up the wall, and then he turned and helped her up.

"I hope we don't scare him or catch him in a private moment or something," Sophia whispered.

Brandon snorted. "I don't think Elroy has private moments."

They jumped down, and Sophia started to dust her hands off on her pants before stopping short. Elroy was definitely not home. Not now, and not ever, apparently - the house was completely empty.

They looked at each other in silence, and then went back the way they came.

The next stop didn't go any better. The lady living at Del's ranch house had never heard of him; she'd bought the house from a realtor a few years back. She was nice enough to show them the stables, explaining that the horses had conveyed with the house. They were Del's horses, alright.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be of more help," the woman said, patting Sophia on the shoulder and smiling warmly at Brandon. "Maybe they'll know more at the county records office?"

"Yeah," she said, trying to give the woman a smile. "Yeah, that's a good idea - thank you so much."

They climbed back into the car, not saying anything to each other. Sophia just sat there, staring at the windshield, until Brandon nudged her. The homeowner was still standing in the yard, watching them. Sophia started the car and Brandon gave the woman a wave as they pulled out.

A few minutes later, they turned into the parking lot at the Ranger Station.

"This feels like our last chance," Brandon murmured.

Sophia and Brandon had met Melia Dorian the very first week they were in Joshua Tree, not long after their father's funeral. They quickly became the park ranger's shadow, which their grandfather had encouraged, saying they needed a woman's touch. Melia had, in fact, taught them both how to cook and sew, but she also taught them the name of every plant, every bird, every star in every constellation, where to find water in the desert and food in the mountains. She taught them how to survive.

Sophia had gone to Melia in tears the day she had to leave.

"Dry your tears, dearest," Melia told her. "It will all be fine. No matter where you are, you and your brother will always be in my heart, and we'll find each other again. I promise. Here," she said, twisting the ring off her finger. "I've been meaning to give this to you for a long time. Now don't look at me like that; it's just a silver ring with a plain, white stone. It's not materially valuable. But it's something special to me, and when you wear it, it will be like you have me with you."

"I can't take it, Melia. It's yours."

"Not really," she smiled. "It was given to me, and I always knew it was meant for you. Here, take it. I don't have one yet for your brother, but you tell him I'll give him one, too, someday."

When Sophia had put the ring on, she could have sworn it gave her a feeling of peace, as though she were ready for anything. Including her mother.

"It is yours now," Melia said softly, "and no one can take it from you. It will keep you safe, and your brother, too, as long as he is with you. Your job is to take care of him, now."

"I know," Sophia whispered back.

That was the last time she'd seen her friend, who had been more of a mother to her than Jeannie had ever been. They had tried to write to her a couple of times, but Melia had never answered. There were no letters from her in the bundle of mail her mother stole.

"Can I help you with something, kids?" The voice behind them made her jump. "Sorry if I startled you," the man chuckled. He was dressed in ranger khakis, with a wide-brimmed hat low over his eyes.

"Oh. Uh, yes," Sophia said, clearing her throat, "We were just looking for Melia Dorian - does she still work here?"

He scratched his head under the hat. "Can't say that I recognize the name."

Her heart fell.

"How long have you been here in Joshua Tree?" Brandon asked, always practical.

"Five years this winter. Though the way things are going, not sure we're going to be able to call it Joshua Tree for much longer."

"What do you mean?" Sophia asked.

"Joshua Trees are dying off. Climate change," he shrugged. "You visiting for the first time? Happy to tell you more about the area. There's still plenty to see."

"No," Sophia said absently, thinking that it sounded as though Melia had left right after they did. "We grew up here."

He smiled pleasantly. "Well, maybe you can tell me more about the area, then."

"Would you have any records about rangers who were here before?" Brandon asked. "Melia was a friend of ours, and we'd really like to track her down."

"Not sure I'd have any records that would be helpful, but I can send an email to Washington and ask them for forwarding information and let her know you're looking for her. If you want to leave your number or your email address, I'll be glad to let you know when I hear from her." He fished in his breast pocket and pulled out a notecard.

"Here. Write your names on the back of this, along with your information, and I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Thanks," Sophia smiled at him. "We really appreciate it."

"No problem. Come by any time."

The next morning, the siblings sat in the kitchen in the dawning light.

"We got an email from that ranger," Brandon said from behind his laptop.

"Already?" Sophia asked. "That was fast. What'd he say?"

"That they have no records for Melia."

"No forwarding address?"

"No," Brandon said slowly, "Nothing at all. No record that she was ever here at all, let alone where she's gone. How is that possible? I mean, how is all of it possible? Every single one of them, gone without a trace? Grandfather, Elroy, Del, Melia..."

"I don't know," she responded. "But Grandfather did say he would know when we came looking for him."

She noticed then that Brandon was rolling the obsidian box in his fingers.

"Have you been carrying that with you?" she asked.

He nodded. "Didn't seem like something we should leave lying around, especially with that vampire bat guy poking his nose in the door."

"Maybe we should open the box." she finally proposed.

"The little old man said not to," Brandon responded.

"No," she corrected, "he said other people shouldn't touch it. He didn't say we shouldn't. He wanted us to have it."

Brandon peered down at the box, looking for an opening. He ran a fingernail along a fine crack in the side, and it started to move. Sophia nodded at him when he glanced up at her.

He eased the box open, and they both gasped. The gemstone inside pulsed with an internal golden light and sparkled with a spectrum of warm colors, now red, then orange, with splashes of yellow. Brandon gently touched a fingertip to it, and it seemed to generate a low, humming field of magnetic pressure, which they could both feel bending around them. Laughter bubbled up out of Sophia, and Brandon grinned broadly at her in response. The stone literally seemed to brighten the room. They stared at it, mesmerized, not noticing the passage of time.

Suddenly, there was a crash at the front door, and Brandon hastily closed the obsidian box and shoved it down into his pocket just as a man with long blond hair ran into the room.

"Who the hell are you?" Sophia yelled at him, slipping her knife into her hand.

"I'm a friend of your grandfather's. We have to go. Now."

"What?" Sophia cried. "Are you out of your mind? You can't just break in here! We're not going anywhere with you."

The man looked at her, and his churning gray eyes made her shrink against the counter.

"You have the stone," he said. "You touched it. Every foul creature within 500 miles of here felt it and is very likely heading this way right now."

"Foul creatures? What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Unless you want to find out the hard way, I suggest we run. Now," he repeated, turning and sprinting for the door.

Just then, there was a loud roaring sound in the distance, something that did not sound human but was not an animal either of siblings recognized. Sophia and Bran looked at each other for a split second before running after the strange man.


	5. Chapter 5

**_AN: Pheas and I just write for our own enjoyment - Theo_**

**CHAPTER FIVE: Taking Flight**

"Get in," the man shouted, yanking open the door of a low-slung, red car. It only had two seats, so Sophia and Bran jammed into the one passenger seat and slammed the door.

"Seatbelt," he barked, throwing the car into reverse.

"But..." Sophia started.

"Just do it!" he growled. They managed to pull the seatbelt around both of them and had just clicked it in when he punched the accelerator and they were thrown against the back of the seat and each other.

"Ferrari," Brandon said appreciatively, rubbing his forehead where it had collided with Sophia's.

The stranger gave him a small lopsided smile, screeching around a bend in the road.

"Where are you taking us?" Sophia asked him.

"Airport in Palm Springs," he responded. "There's a plane waiting."

"A plane? What plane? Where are we going?"

"Is she always so demanding?" the man asked Brandon, who nodded vigorously. Sophia elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Ow!"

"Really," she said, "where is it you think we are going? And who are you, anyway?"

"You can call me Les," he responded, looking in the rear view mirror. "And no more questions, Sophia. I have to drive."

Sophia tried to look out the back of the car, but couldn't quite turn her head around far enough.

"Oh my God," Brandon breathed. He was looking at the side view mirror, and Sophia craned her head in front of him to get a look.

"What is that?" she cried, as she saw the giant, dark cloud grinding and whirling up the road behind them. She could have sworn there were flames boiling out of it.

Les just clenched his jaw and accelerated. He never slowed down either, speeding right through a security gate and onto the runway.

"You two just get on the plane, okay?" Les said.

"What is that thing?" Sophia shouted again, over the rising roar of the dark cloud.

"You let me worry about that," he shouted back. "Just get on the plane."

He skidded to a stop in front of a mid-sized Gulfstream, and jumped out of the car, seemingly before it had even stopped moving, and then took something from the trunk. Sophia scrabbled at the belt, frantically trying to release it. Finally, it popped open and they ran for the plane. pelting up its stairs.

At the door, Sophia turned back, and what she saw terrified her. There was a shape inside the cloud - a dark giant, with fire where its mouth and eyes should be. Les had a very large gun on his shoulder and something streaked across the tarmac, hitting the massive shape. It seemed to have no effect at all.

"Get in! Get in!" cried a woman from the cockpit. "Get in your seats! We have to go right now!"

"We can't just leave him!" Brandon shouted at the pilot.

"He can take care of himself," she called out. "Just don't shut the door."

They hurriedly took seats and fastened their seatbelts as the pilot retracted the stairs and began to taxi. They could see Les out the window; he looked tiny, like a flickering bug, delivering shot after shot at the dark, flaming colossus. Finally, one blast knocked the giant back, and Les immediately dropped the gun, turned and fled down the runway on an angle to intercept the plane.

"It must be 10 feet up," Sophia said to her brother, "and we're really moving. He'll never make it!"

Just then, they heard something impact the plane, and the cabin shuddered. Les appeared in the doorway and wrenched himself inside, turning immediately to close the door and yelling "Go, go, go!"

Sophia stared open-mouthed at Les, until Brandon grabbed her sister's sleeve, pointing frantically out the window. The creature was coming after them down the runway, a long flaming rope whipping above its head.

Les had gone into the cockpit, and the plane took off steeply, shaking violently. Both siblings clutched the armrests tightly and Sophia struggled to keep from throwing up. When the plane started to level out, she finally managed to get control of her stomach, panting and sweating. Brandon was staring out the window.

"Is it still chasing us?" she asked him.

"I don't see it," he said. "Which is kind of weird, actually. I mean, that thing was huge! Shouldn't I still be able to see it?"

"I honestly have no idea," Sophia commented, shutting her eyes and resting her head against the seat back.

They rode in silence for awhile, until Brandon announced. "We're over water. Guess we're going west."

Sophia frowned. "It's a long way until land if you go west."

Brandon turned and looked at her. "Think there's an in-flight movie?"

She shot him a hard glance. "I don't think there's anything funny about this, Brandon."

"I didn't say it had to be a comedy."

She struggled not to smile.

A few minutes later, the cockpit door opened, and Les came out. Sophia gasped when she saw him. He was limping and had a long gash over his right eyebrow and his arm looked scorched. Blood was smeared down his face.

"Are you all right?" she said, reaching to undo her seatbelt. "You look like you need stitches, and that's a pretty bad burn. If there's a first aid kit, I can take care of it, at least until we get you to a doctor."

Les just waved her off, wiping his face with a towel from the galley. "It's nothing," he shrugged. "I've had worse," he added, noticing her incredulous look. "Anyway, I heal fast."

"What was that thing?" Brandon asked.

Les looked at him for a moment, and finally answered, "How about if we talk about that later, Brandon?"

Sophia scowled at him. "How about if we talk about that now? And just how is it that you know our names, anyway?"

"I told you. I'm a friend of your grandfather's. He asked me to keep an eye out for you."

"We've only been there for two days," Sophia said suspiciously. "How did you know we were there?"

Les rolled his eyes. "Everyone knew you were there," he saw the meaningful look the siblings exchanged but did not comment on it. "You were not exactly discreet."

"That must be how that other guy found us, too," Brandon commented.

"What other guy?" Les frowned.

"Said his name was Archie something," Sophia said, waving her hand dismissively, but she noticed Les's startled look. "At least he didn't actually break the door down the way you did. Where are you taking us, anyway?"

"I'm taking you to your grandfather," he said, brow furrowed.

"Where is he?" Brandon asked eagerly.

"He's in New Zealand, but we're going to have to stop first in Hawaii. We burned a lot of fuel on that takeoff."

"But we don't have passports," Sophia interrupted. "We can't go to New Zealand."

"That won't be a problem," Les said calmly.

The siblings just stared at him, and he suddenly yawned.

"Sorry. Sorry, but I'm going to have to take a nap. Tough battle," he grimaced. "But I promise all of your questions will be answered once we get to New Zealand, okay?" He rubbed wearily at his eyes. "There's a galley in the front, and there should be some food up there if you get hungry. Liriel is the pilot's name - let her know if you need anything." He yawned again and stumbled toward the back of the plane, pitching down behind a row of seats.

"Do you think he's okay?" Sophia asked, looking at the back of the plane anxiously.

"He didn't seem too worried," Brandon noted.

Sophia unbuckled her belt. "I'm just going to check on him. See if there's maybe a blanket I can get him."

"Yes, mother," Brandon chuckled under his breath.

Sophia found a blanket and a pillow in an overhead compartment and went down the aisle. It turned out there was a long flat bench behind the seats, and Les was lying on it face up, completely still, and his eyes were open. She gasped.

"Oh no! He's dead! Brandon, he's dead!"

"Who's dead?" Les grumbled, squinting at her.

"You...you were...um, you were lying there, with your eyes open. I, uh, I thought..." she trailed off.

"Elves sleep with their eyes open," he mumbled.

He really must be tired, she thought. He just called himself an elf.

"Uh, I brought you a pillow and a blanket," she held out the pillow.

She was relieved when he smiled at her. "Thanks," he reached up for it, as slowly as if he were moving through water, and stuck it under his head. He made no move to take the blanket, though, and she realized that he had fallen back to sleep, once again with his eyes open. Sophia shook out the blanket and spread it gently over the man.

Now that they weren't in a life-threatening situation, she was able to get a good look at him. The cut over his eye had stopped bleeding and looked like it was already starting to crust over a bit. He wasn't kidding about being a fast healer! But he was still very pale. In fact, he was so pale he almost seemed to glow in the dim cabin lights. He was tall and thin, but by no means frail, and she couldn't really tell how old he was. Long blond, almost silver hair, flowed down to his shoulders and he was, well, beautiful. She winced, realizing that it was an adjective this man would probably not appreciate, given that he seemed to like muscle cars and bazookas. But there was no other word for it: he had high, chiseled cheekbones, Cupid's bow lips, and long, dark lashes framing large gray eyes. There was no trace of stubble; his skin was as smooth and flawless as blown glass. She'd never seen anyone like him.

Well, she thought, actually, there was something about him that reminded her of her grandfather and his friends. Curiouser and curiouser, she thought.

She returned quietly to her seat.

"Well? Is he dead?"

"No," Sophia responded absently. "Just sleeping. With his eyes open."

"Oh, cool!" Brandon enthused. "Nocturnal lagophthalmos! I've never actually seen someone with it." He jumped up out of his seat and scooted past her.

Brandon approached the back of the plane gingerly, and looked at Les intently for a moment. He hesitantly waved a hand in front of the man. Smiling broadly when there was no reaction, he waved both arms wildly, wiggling his hips.

"What are you doing?" Les groaned, making Brandon jump.

"Oh, um, nothing," Brandon responded lamely. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't. The stone did. Now, can you go dance somewhere else and let me sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah - sorry about that," Brandon crept hurriedly away.

"Was it everything you hoped for?" his sister asked, as he crawled past her to his seat.

"I woke him up," he admitted.

"Well, at least you didn't wake him up by shouting that he was dead."

"There is that," Brandon agreed, hoping that Les wouldn't mention the dancing.

They rode in silence for awhile, which Sophia finally broke. "So, what do you think that thing was?"

"I have no idea," Brandon confessed. "At first I thought it might be a car kicking up some crazy dust devil or something, but there was definitely something inside the cloud." He paused.

"What?" Sophia pressed.

"You're going to think I'm crazy, but it looked like a Balrog."

"A what?"

"A Balrog. You know, from Lord of the Rings?"

She shook her head. "I didn't memorize the book the way you did. What's a Balrog?"

"Remember from the movie, then - the big, fiery minotaur-like monster Gandalf fights?"

"Gandalf was the old guy?"

"Old guy!" Brandon repeated indignantly. "He's an Ishtar - he's like a demi-God."

"OK, a badass old guy. I get it. You're right. I think you're crazy."

Brandon shrugged. "You saw it with your own eyes."

They fell silent again. It was Sophia, as always, who broke the silence.

"Do you think Les looks like our grandfather?"

"Yeah," Brandon, answered, "a little. He looks more like Del, though."

Sophia nodded. "Kind of weird, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Brandon shrugged. "Maybe he's just another cousin, like Elroy."

"Maybe," she agreed. "Want some food?"

They rummaged through the galley and found a sort of flat bread, a jar of honey, fresh fruit, nuts, and cheese. There was water, and several green, long-necked bottles with foreign writing on the labels. Sophia uncorked one and sniffed at it.

"What is it?" Brandon asked.

"I think it's wine," she said, pouring herself a glass.

"You're going to drink alcohol?" Brandon asked her. "At a time like this?"

"This seems like an especially good time to me," she shot back. "Wow. That's really good. Really, really good. Want some?"

He shook his head.

A little while later, the pilot, Liriel, came out to see them.

"How are you two doing?" she asked brightly. "Some takeoff, huh?"

"Yeah," Sophia eyed the woman, who was tall and slender, with long red hair and a porcelain, heart-shaped face. She didn't look all that much older than her passengers. "What was that thing?"

Liriel smiled brightly at her. "I don't know - didn't get a good look at it. Did you ask Les?"

Sophia grumbled something about no one having any straight answers. Liriel just cleared her throat. "You do know you don't have to sit right next to each other, right? The whole is plane is yours - you can pick any seat you want."

"It's okay," Brandon answered easily. "We're used to not having a lot of private space. We share a bedroom."

"At your age?" Liriel asked in disbelief, and Brandon blushed.

"That's what happens when you have three people in a two bedroom apartment," Sophia answered coldly. "And Brandon only just turned 18." Brandon shot her an annoyed look. He didn't want this woman to think he was a child.

"I'm sorry," Liriel said hastily. "I didn't mean to be rude. Forgive me."

"Quite alright," Brandon smiled easily.

"Well, we have a few more hours to go," Liriel chirped. "Sorry we don't have any movies or books or anything, but we're going to be on the ground for a couple of hours in Hawaii, and you should feel free to to check out the gift shops. They're awesome! Just don't go through the security gates, okay? I want to keep you guys off the manifest."

"Right," Sophia agreed, realizing uneasily that she had nothing at all with her. No money, no driver's license, nothing but the cell phone in her pocket and the knife on her wrist.

Before they could ask her anything else, Liriel said she needed to keep an eye out for turbulence, grabbed some food and returned to the cockpit.

Sophia turned anxiously to Brandon. "Hey, do you have your wallet?" He nodded. "I don't," she muttered.

"I'll treat you to whatever you want," her brother offered magnanimously. "My interest rates are reasonable, of course."

"Of course," Sophia snorted. "But you know I'll find some other way to make you pay it back."

Brandon sighed. "Don't I just." He looked at his sister, and his expression shifted. "You weren't very nice to Liriel. What's up, Soph?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed at being called out.

"I just feel unsettled. This is all so bizarre; I can't shake this feeling that we're in danger. I mean, we were practically kidnapped, some giant animal tried to eat us, and she's acting like a cheerleader at a pep rally."

"She seemed pretty genuine," he said gently.

"I know," Sophia admitted. "But she was definitely evasive. Just like Les."

Brandon squeezed her hand. "Well, if they were kidnapping us, she wouldn't send us off to the gift shops, would she? And maybe it will help to get off the plane for a little while."

Sophia nodded, but she had a hunch that would not turn out to be the case.


	6. Chapter 6

**_AN: My friend Pheas and I wrote this together, for our own enjoyment..._**

**CHAPTER SIX: PARADISE LOST**

"How about this one?" Brandon asked, holding up a black shirt with large, bright orange and red hibiscus flowers all over it. Sophia wrinkled her nose a little. "Back to the drawing board," he sighed.

Sophia turned her attention to the bookshelf in front of her. She wasn't really in the mood to read, but it was going to be a long flight. She noticed a travel section and found a guide to New Zealand. She flipped it open.

"Looks like a good book," a low, silky voice said behind her, practically in her ear. She dropped the book and looked up. It was Archie Silvane.

"Fancy meeting you here, Sophia," the man purred. "Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

Sophia just stared at him in shock. "What do you want?" she croaked.

"Why don't we leave the books for now? I'd like to take you on a little sightseeing excursion. You would like that, wouldn't you?" he asked with a smile, taking a firm hold of her elbow.

"We're not staying in Hawaii," she said quickly.

"Yes, you are," he responded, propelling her out of the shop and into a quiet corner nearby. "Why don't you take off your ring and give it to me?" Archie murmured, holding his hand out.

Sophia stared at him in disbelief. This was all about stealing her ring? Well fine, he could have it. She grasped it to twist it off, but it wouldn't budge. She frowned and tugged at it again.

"I...I can't get it off," she said, flustered. "I must have grown too much..."

"Here," he commanded, holding his hand out, and she hesitantly held hers out, too. But the moment Silvane touched the ring, he gasped, eyes wide, and snatched his fingers back, cradling them in his other hand. He stood, hunched over in pain for several minutes, and then straightened up. He was so angry, Sophia thought his eyes actually looked red.

"Let's go," he growled, and they walked back out into the corridor. "Don't try anything," he breathed into her ear, just as she was getting ready to scrape her heel down his shin. She felt the tip of a blade break through her shirt and lightly pierce the skin of her back.

"You won't hurt me in a public place," she scoffed, suppressing the fear she felt rising in her throat. "But if I come with you somewhere private, why wouldn't you?"

"Keep your voice down," he snapped. "And while I can appreciate your logic, I will not hesitate to hurt you here or anywhere else if it suits me, but I will not hurt you if you cooperate."

Sophia was scanning the crowd, looking for Brandon.

Silvane chuckled. "Ah, you're looking for your baby brother. Not to worry: he's right behind you," he said. "With my associate, who also has a knife. And if you don't cooperate, I will tell him to use it."

"I don't believe you," she growled, but she kept going, because she did believe him. He did not sound as though he were bluffing. As they moved through the airport, she scanned frantically for a security guard. Finally seeing one, she managed to catch his eye, but he just returned the look, smiled, and nodded.

"Mahalo," he said as they walked past. "Welcome to Hawaii."

"Don't bother," Silvane murmured. "No one will pay the slightest attention to you."

He must have paid off the guards, she thought grimly, as they walked out a side door onto the tarmac. A dark car with tinted windows screeched up and Silvane yanked open the door and pushed her in next to a barrel-chested man in a hoodie and sunglasses that seemed to cover half his face. Another big man in a hoodie and sunglasses got in next to her, and she saw Brandon tumble into the front seat, Silvane climbing in after him.

"What do you want from us?" she demanded.

"In due time, my dear," Silvane answered, without turning around.

They drove to a far corner of the airport, where they were bundled into another small plane.

"Are you alright?" Brandon murmured to her, as they walked up the stairs and onto the plane.

"Yeah, you?"

"No talking," barked Silvane. "You," he said pushing Brandon's shoulder, "sit there. You," he nodded at Sophia and pointed to the row across from her brother, "sit there."

It seemed they had scarcely taken off when they began to descend. The roar of the turboprops made it hard to even think, but Sophia was frantically trying to come up with a way out of this situation. They were landing on one of the other islands; she didn't know enough about Hawaii to know which one it might be, only 30 minutes away from the main airport. Where was this man taking them? At least he hadn't disarmed her, she thought grimly, though she would need a lot more than a knife to fight his boulder-like bodyguards. She knew Brandon was armed, as well, also just with a blade, though. Their grandfather had insisted that they always carry some means to defend themselves.

We will just have to look for an opportunity to escape and hide, she thought, glancing over at Brandon, who met her eyes and nodded slightly. If Silvane noticed, he chose not to react.

The plane landed and taxied, stopping near a group of low-slung, green-roofed buildings. Silvane turned to them as the engines began to slow.

"Do I need to restrain you, or are you going to do as you are told?" he asked, looking at Sophia. She tried to keep her face neutral.

"You said you wouldn't hurt us if we cooperate; if that's the truth, then you don't need to restrain us."

He considered her for a long moment, then took out a pair of plastic handcuffs and strapped her hands together, leaving Brandon unshackled.

"He won't go anywhere without you," Silvane reasoned, "And you wouldn't get far, in any case. We would have no trouble finding you."

One of the other men stood and opened the door, unfolding the staircase to the runway and going down ahead.

"Let's go," Silvane prompted, pointing to the door. Sophia got up first, and she noticed that Silvane was careful to keep one of his bodyguards between her and Brandon. As she emerged onto the stairs, she had to squint against the bright light and the warm breeze ruffling her hair.

She stumbled down the steep steps and waited at the bottom.

"In the car," Silvane directed, pointing at a dark car with tinted windows, nearly identical to the one in Honolulu. As they drove away, she saw a sign in that announced they were leaving Hilo International Airport. Hilo, she thought hard, where was Hilo?

"Are we going to a volcano?" Brandon asked loudly in the front. Apparently, he knew something about Hilo. But Silvane did not answer him. "Which volcano are you taking us to?" He tried again, but there was still no answer.

"Because, you know, I've always wanted to see the Puu Oo Vent, if you're taking requests," he added cheerfully.

"Shut up," Silvane ground out at him, "or I will have one of them," he jerked his head toward the monstrous men flanking Sophia, "shut you up. Or better still," he said with a sly smile, "I'll have them shut your sister up."

"But I didn't even say anything!" Sophia objected indignantly. Silvane turned and looked at her, and then nodded at one of the men next to her. He raised a ham-hock sized fist, and snapped it across her face. It seemed to happen almost in slow motion, or like something breaking a sound barrier; she saw the fist hit her, but didn't register the pain of it until a few moments later. She was dimly aware that Brandon was calling her name, but she could barely hear him over the roaring in her ears. She could taste blood in her mouth.

"Now," Silvane said pleasantly, once Sophia had recovered somewhat, "I think we all understand each other better. No questions. No talking. Just do as your told, and there won't be anymore pain. Got it?"

"Yes," Sophia said softly, and she heard Brandon make some sound of assent. They rode in silence after that.

Back in Honolulu, Liriel walked down the aisle of the plane, chewing her lip nervously. She looked down at Legolas, or "Les" as he was known in this time, and gently shook his shoulder. "Legolas," she said softly. "You need to wake up now."

"Liriel," he groaned. "What is it?"

"It's the kids," she said. "They've been gone too long."

"Where are they?" he said, sitting up quickly, fully awake.

"They went to the concourse to do some shopping," she explained nervously. "They should have been back by now."

Legolas rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not sure that was wise," he said gently, "to let them go. They don't trust us yet."

"I figured the best way to get them to trust us was to trust them," she countered.

"Fair point," he allowed. "How long have they been gone?"

"Three hours. I told them to be back in two."

"Okay," he rose to his feet, "I'll go look for them. Stay here in case they come back."

Legolas knew something was seriously wrong as soon as he set foot inside the terminal. He could not sense the stone anymore, and there was a dissonance, as though some evil shade had left a residue dripping down the walls. He could swear there was even a foul lingering odor, something naggingly familiar.

He paused outside one of the stores, looking up at its sign: Hawaiian Isle Memories. He closed his eyes for a moment; yes, he was fairly certain they had been here. He walked in and wandered through the displays, but he saw no sign of Sophia or Brandon. As he passed a bookshelf, he noticed a book on the floor. It was a tourist guide to New Zealand.

"Excuse me," he asked the woman at the register, who looked up at him stonily, did a double take, and then smiled. Her coral lipstick had smeared onto her two front teeth.

"What can I do for you, sweetie?"

"Have you seen two young people in here, a brother and sister - both tall, dark curly hair, blue eyes?"

"Can't say I remember seeing them, doll," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. "Well, I did see a young guy in here who kind of looked like that, but I didn't see a girl with him."

"When was that? Did you see where he went?"

"Friend of yours? Oh no," she said in dismay, "he's not your boyfriend, is he?"

Legolas just looked at her, nonplussed. "Er, no, you misunderstand. We're not...I'm not... He's just a friend, but he's going to miss his plane. I really need to find him."

"He left here awhile ago. Left with a big guy, actually. Kinda short, but really huge. You might have some competition, there."

Legolas frowned. "Did you see which way they went?"

"No, sorry, doll. Didn't really notice."

"Thank you," he said distractedly, hurrying back out into the corridor.

"Come back real soon!" The woman called hopefully after him.

Legolas looked up and down the corridor, but he had no idea which way they would have gone. Then he noticed a security guard up the hallway.

"Excuse me," he started.

"Mahalo," the cheerful man said. "Welcome to Hawaii."

"Thank you. Have you been on duty long?"

"All day," the man responded.

"Have you seen two young people, a brother and a sister with dark curly hair, almost my height?"

"No," he said, brow furrowed. "No, I don't think so."

"It would have been within the last three hours. Maybe the young man was with a very large man?"

"Oh yeah," the guard's face brightened. "Sure, I seen him. A couple of hours ago, I think. He was with a girl?" The guard's brow furrowed again. "I don't remember..." he started.

"Wait," he said softly. "Wait just a minute. There was a girl. Yeah. Looked right at me, like she wanted to say something. But she didn't say nothing. There was a guy with her, too. Taller than the other guy, not as big. Good looking fellah, but not nice looking, if you know what I mean." He leaned forward and stared at Legolas intently. "In fact, he kinda looked like you a little, only with dark hair, bigger nose, different eyes." The man scratched his head. "Guess that doesn't sound like he looked like you at all, does it?"

"Did you see where they went?" Legolas broke in.

"Yeah," the man said in surprise. "You know, I actually did. They went out that door there, back out onto the runway. You know," he scratched his head again, "they aren't supposed to do that."

"Thank you," Legolas said hurriedly, turning and running back down the corridor. He didn't stop until he reached the plane and sprinted up the stairs.

"Liriel!" he shouted.

She popped her head out of the cockpit.

"I need you to check every departure out of this airport in the last three hours. Look for private planes."

She immediately returned to the cockpit without asking any questions, and Legolas fished his iPhone out of his pocket, tapping the screen. "Elrond," he spoke into it, when he heard a click on the other end. "We have a problem."

"They wouldn't come with you?"

"They came. They didn't have a choice; there was a Balrog."

Elrond cursed softly in English, preferring modern words for such purposes. "Of all things... Wait, how did it find them? Nerya should have kept them concealed, even from a Balrog. Sophia didn't lose the ring, did she?"

"Elrond," Legolas started slowly, "Brandon and Sophia have a Silmaril."

There was utter silence on the other end of the line.

"Already?" he finally asked. "How is that possible? Where did they get it?"

"I don't know. I didn't have a chance to ask them - they've been taken."

"What?" Elrond shouted. "By whom? How could you let that happen, Legolas?"

Elrond had only really lost his temper with Legolas a handful of times in the thousands of years they had been working together. Once was about the children's father, and once about their grandmother, so he supposed it was only fitting that he would be angry now, too.

"I'm afraid our suspicions about Acharnor were correct. But I swear by Iluvatar and all the Valar, I will get them back Elrond. I swear it."

With that, he broke the connection.

"Anything, Liriel?" he called out as he walked toward the cockpit, ignoring the buzzing phone in his back pocket.

"Yeah," she answered. "In addition to the commercial, international flights, there were three private plans bound for Kona, four to Maui, one to Hilo."

"Any information about the flights?"

"The Kona and Maui flights were all tour companies. There was no information at all about the Hilo flight."

"Can you ask the tower about it?"

"I did. They don't know anything, other than the fact that it took off. They said sometimes really famous or really rich people can arrange that. They didn't know who it was - no one recognized the guy."

"Guy? They saw the pilot?"

"They saw the owner - dark, slick-haired guy, not very friendly."

"That's the one - let's get to Hilo as fast as possible."

It didn't take them long to get clearance to take off; the flight controllers all liked Liriel, and they moved her to the front of the queue before she could even make the request.

"They in trouble?" she asked Legolas softly, once they were in the air.

"Yes," he answered tightly. "I'm afraid so."

"I'm so sorry," she looked at him in anguish. "It's all my fault."

He touched her shoulder lightly. "No, it's not. There's no way you could have known. And don't worry: Elrond blames me, not you. Anyway, we'll get them back," he finished, jaw clenched.

Liriel nodded, her eyes swimming. "We're already there," she nodded out the window at the approaching airstrip.

"I forgot how close together these islands all are," he mused. "Haven't been here in awhile." He frowned, looking at the landscape below them. "This is the one with all the volcanoes, isn't it?"

"Yes," Liriel agreed.

Legolas sat back, thoughts churning. Liriel knew him well enough not to interrupt and concentrated instead on landing the plane. He still had not moved or spoken by the time the plane came to a stop on the runway, and Liriel watched him anxiously.

"_To the stones, borne on a father's death_," he finally murmured, "_Exhaled in long mountain's breath_."

"Is that the prophecy?" she asked, and he nodded absently.

"We thought it would be Everest," he said, not really talking to her. "But I wonder... Can you pass me the laptop?"

Liriel fished the computer out of the storage pocket next to her seat and handed it to him. He typed intently on it for a moment, frowning.

"Mauna Loa," he said. "He's taken them to Mauna Loa."

"What?" she said. "Why?"

"It actually means 'Long Mountain,'" he responded, staring at her. "We didn't think of it, because it doesn't look that big - half of it is underwater. And in the time of Maglor, when he cast the Silmaril into the sea, all of it was underwater."

Liriel's eyes widened. "Silmaril?" she stuttered. "You think there's a Silmaril here? In Hawaii? Yavannah help us," she exclaimed when she saw him nod briefly.

"Let's go," Legolas said grimly.

Liriel went to the storage locker and keyed it open, pressing her finger to the cypher lock. "What are we facing?" she asked, examining the weapons.

"Acharnor," he said calmly, as Liriel gasped, "Orcs. I don't know how many." Liriel paled.

"Orcs?" she said in disbelief. "Are you sure? They've been gone for thousands of years."

"I'm sure," he responded, realizing he had recognized their stench back in the airport.

"I don't know how well modern weapons will work on Orcs - they didn't really work on the Balrog. But not much does," he observed.

"So it really was a Balrog," Liriel said, placing guns, swords, bows and quivers of graphite, ceramic tipped arrows in a large duffel bag. "Do you think it will come here?"

Legolas shrugged. "I certainly hope not. It almost killed me, and all I was trying to do was hold it off long enough for us to get away."

A few minutes later, Legolas and Liriel were standing in line at the rental car counter. "Some gold card," he muttered, shifting impatiently from foot to foot.

"Reservation number?" chirped the young woman behind the counter when they finally reached her.

"We don't have one," he said shortly, handing her the card. "We need whatever you have."

"Oh dear," she said sympathetically, flicking a look down at his card. "I do hope we'll be able to help you, Mr. Sinder, but you really do need a reservation for this location." Liriel put a hand on his arm when she saw that volcanoes soon wouldn't be the only thing erupting in Hilo. Although the years had settled heavily on his shoulders, Legolas was still an even-tempered elf with an unusually good sense of humor - most of the time. When he got angry, he could be frightening, and he tended to stay mad.

"Here," she said, holding out her own card, "try this one."

"Of course, Ms. Silvane," the agent gushed. "Right away!"

"Why are you so special?" Legolas grumped, as the young woman spoke into the phone.

"Just have to know how to work the system," she answered smugly. "And spend a lot of money."

"Here you go, Ms. Silvane," the agent said cheerfully, holding out some paperwork. "Sorry about the delay. I do hope this will meet your needs. Joe is pulling it around front for you right now."

"Seriously?" Legolas gawked, as the sleek silver car approached. Everyone else in the rental agency stopped and stared.

"Here you go, ma'am," the driver held the door open for Liriel. "Porsche Targa - brand new model."

"Did you want to drive?" she asked solicitously, fighting to keep a smirk off her face.

He made an elaborate gesture for her to take the wheel. "By all means, Princess," he responded.

"Hardly," she snorted, closing the door behind her. "I'm just a humble Silvan elf, your majesty, as you well know."

Legolas tapped in Mauna Loa on the car's console, and they roared away.


	7. Chapter 7

**_AN: Pheas and I have been writing for awhile, so while the story is not complete, we will be posting a lot of chapters in the next few days. Then we'll slow down... TF_**

**CHAPTER SEVEN: The Battle of Mauna Loa**

Sophia was bored. And as tense as a garroting wire.

They had been sitting in a hotel room in Hilo for what seemed like hours. She and Brandon were not supposed to talk, and they were not allowed to sit too close to each other. So they just waited there in silence, with no idea what they were waiting for. One of the very big men - they all looked the same - sat just inside the door and watched them. He never moved.

"I have to pee," she finally said. The man glanced at her and nodded. "Can you take off the cuffs?" she asked sweetly. "Otherwise, it will be quite messy, you know?"

The man said nothing, and didn't even look at her. "Ohhhkay," she said, getting up and going into the bathroom. There were no windows in the bathroom, no vents large enough to crawl through. No escape that way. She could have already cut through her bonds, of course, but they would notice and all she would achieve was the loss of her knife. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, sighed at the bruise that was spreading across half her face. She made a show of flushing the toilet, and opened the door very quietly.

The man by the door didn't look up at all when she walked out. And so she passed quickly by Brandon. "We'll find a way out," she whispered to him, brushing her hands across his back. "Look for an opportunity."

"We can't take that chance, Soph," Brandon whispered back. "He'll hurt you again."

"Bran, he's going to hurt us, no matter what. You know that, right?"

Brandon looked up at her, brows drawn together. "I don't think so," he said softly. "Not if we do what he says."

"Brandon," she hissed, stepping away from him in dismay.

Suddenly, the man at the door grunted. Sophia looked back over her shoulder and saw him rising from his seat. She hurried back to her side of the room.

A short while later, the door opened, and Archie Silvane strode in, two of his henchmen with him.

"Time to go," he ordered.

The sun was sinking low on the horizon as they walked out of the hotel. Sophia climbed into the waiting car, as told, shooting an anxious look at her brother. Brandon was very pale and would not look at her, and Sophia was desperately trying to figure out how to help him. She needed him to get past his fear, or they would have no hope of escaping.

After they had been on the road for some time, she saw a sign for Hawaii Volcanoes National Park slide by in the dying light. The car began to climb upward.

"Turn here," Archie said. They drove up the road for a few more minutes and then came to a visitor's center, which they drove past in a blur.

Soon, they turned off onto a one-lane road, and came to a stop. The driver got out of the car.

Sophia couldn't see out very well, but Brandon could see through the front windshield that the driver was lifting up a metal gate across the road. There was a large sign on the gate announcing the road was closed to the public due to a high risk of an eruption.

"But Archie, the warning," Brandon sputtered, pointing at the sign, "they're serious about these things here."

"You would be surprised at how easily park rangers are fooled. They are entirely too risk averse," Silvane smiled at his passenger. "And why don't you call me Acharnor from now on?The nickname was an unfortunate necessity for moving about in this age. I have always despised it."

The driver returned and moved them past the gate, stopping once again to close it behind them. No one spoke as the car rattled up the rough road for almost an hour before they came to a stop again at a small cluster of white buildings, one with an observatory rising above it.

"We walk from here," Acharnor announced.

As they got out of the car, Sophia was able to brush her brother's hand. "It has to be soon, Brandon," she whispered, eying the lush vegetation around them.

He didn't get a chance to respond before Acharnor ordered Brandon to move ahead on the trail with him and Sophia to remain in the rear with two of the guards. He wasn't going to take any chances, Sophia realized, as she stumbled up the path in the dim light.

Soon, the plants and trees she had hoped to hide in began to thin as the path grew steeper and the soil turned dark and rocky. Sophia had trouble catching her breath now, and steam rose off the backs of the guards. In front of her, she saw Brandon falter.

"So cold," he said, wrapping his arms around himself. "I need...I need to rest."

Acharnor sneered at him. "I see the blood of Numenor runs thin. Fine, walk now with your sister - the ring will keep you warm. You will find nowhere to hide up here, and in any case, I have reinforcements up ahead. Come, girl," he said impatiently, beckoning to Sophia, "rescue your poor little brother."

Sophia hurried to Brandon's side. He was on his knees on the ground, panting, and he didn't look up at her.

"Are you okay?" she breathed.

"Yeah," he said softly. He glanced at her. "Other than being pathetic."

"You're not. You know you're not," she said offering him a hand. He stood, meeting her eyes now and nodding, he squeezed her shoulder.

"If the two of you are finished with this touching scene," Acharnor said, voice dripping with disdain, "and even if you are not," he added, pointing a gun at them, "move."

They walked up the trail, arm in arm, soon losing all sense of time in the frigid, thin air.

"How," Sophia said puffing heavily, "how could a volcano, in Hawaii no less, be so darn cold?"

"Really high altitude," Brandon huffed back. "Biggest volcano in the world, actually."

"Know it all," she said affectionately.

Brandon smiled weakly at her, and then grew serious. He looked around nervously, but no one was standing too close to them. "I'm sorry, Soph," he said softly. "I blew it."

"Shhh," she responded. "Nothing to be sorry for. And plenty of chances to redeem yourself, in any case."

They continued to climb, now slipping through patches of snow.

The fatigue and cold they felt evaporated, however, when they reached the enormous crater at the top of the mountain. It was scorched and ashen, with piles of icy, sharp rocks scattered about. There were plumes of steam venting out of the dome that crossed the crater.

"It's a caldera," breathed Brandon. But Sophia wasn't even looking at it.

"Who are they?" Sophia said, pointing to the shapes moving around the massive crater, dimly visible in the light of the rising moon. "Brandon," she whispered, "there are a lot of people up here. Hundreds."

"I don't think those are people," he answered slowly.

Sophia looked back over her shoulder at the guards behind them, and her breath stuck in her throat. They had thrown back the hoods and taken off the sunglasses. Their skin was leathery, with a greenish, grayish tint, pitted and rough. Large, pointed ears stuck out from the sides of their bald heads, which might have been comical if they were not so hideous. One of them noticed her stare, and his eyes glowed red as he smiled at her, revealing rotting, pointed teeth.

"What are they?" she croaked.

"Orcs," Acharnor said calmly, so close behind her she shuddered. "Those," he gestured to their guards, "are Uruk Hai. Try not to annoy them. They have quite nasty tempers." The Uruk Hai laughed, a sound as rough as a sawblade across a log.

"Come," he said impatiently, no longer joking. "It is time. Bring out the stone, boy." He gestured at Brandon.

"Stone?" Brandon answered.

"Oh, please," Acharnor crossed his arms and glowered at Brandon. "Show me the stone. Now."

Brandon didn't move.

"Fine," Acharnor said softly. "If you need a little motivation, that can be arranged." He yanked Sophia back into his arms, holding a long dagger to her throat. She felt the sting of the blade and knew he was cutting her just enough to make her bleed a little.

"Wait, wait," Brandon said frantically, reaching into his pocket. "I have it right here. Just don't hurt her. What do you want me to do?" he asked, holding the shiny, black box in his palm.

"Open it and take the stone out. Hold it out in your palm and walk to the edge of the caldera."

Brandon opened the box and took out the stone, glancing anxiously back at Sophia. A magnetic wave of pulsating colors swept out of the stone as Brandon placed it in his palm, and the raucous crowd of Orcs fell completely silent, all eyes on Brandon.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled, and a new steam vent screamed open in the middle of the caldera.

"It's working," Acharnor crowed. "The other stone is responding!" His arm slackened at Sophia's throat, and she knew this was the moment. She slid her knife forward on her arm and in one smooth motion, cut through her bonds and slipped out of Acharnor's grasp, stabbing him in the side as she moved. Kicking him hard for good measure, she turned toward Brandon, startled to see that her knife was glowing bright blue

"Run!" She shouted at him.

Brandon shoved the stone back into his pocket, a blue glowing knife appearing in his hand, too. They ran for the trail.

"Stop them!" Acharnor screamed, doubled over in pain. "Kill them if you have to, but don't let them get away."

Sophia kicked out at the first Orc that ran at her, and nearly broke her foot. It was like kicking a block of wet cement. The Orc took a swipe at her with a broadsword, which she barely ducked in time. Brandon swept his knife across its throat, grabbing the sword off its body when it fell.

"Here," he cried, throwing the blade to Sophia. "Take it! You heard him, Sophia - don't try to disable them. You have to fight to kill!" Sophia took the sword, whirled, and thrust it at the closest Orc.

"Keep moving toward the trail!" Brandon yelled at her. They fought back to back, slashing and stabbing, ducking, jumping, and pushing back. Suddenly, a bright light rose up around them, almost like a shield, and it seemed to repulse the Orcs.

"Are you doing that?" Sophia said.

"No, I think you are," Brandon responded. "Look out!" he shouted. The light faltered as an Uruk Hai bore down on them, roaring, enormous battle axe raised above its head. Just then, the rumbling earth shook, and the Uruk Hai stumbled. Sophia dropped to the ground and Brandon darted to the side. The Uruk Hai's momentum carried him forward, the axe whistling through the air and sticking into the ground. Brandon chopped at the artery at the back of the creature's knees, and Sophia sliced its throat open.

She glanced up, breathing hard. They were surrounded by wounded and dying Orcs. We might just make it out of here, she thought, but looking the other way, she saw an oncoming wave of the creatures, all heading towards Brandon and Sophia.

"We're not going to make it, Bran!" she panicked.

"Yes we are! Don't you dare give up! Don't you dare!" he roared at her.

But they were both growing tired, and the inevitable soon happened. An Orc got inside Sophia's defenses and cut her from hip to knee. She screamed, and Brandon whirled and stabbed the Orc in the chest. That left his back unprotected, and he took a glancing axe blow across the shoulders that sent him sprawling to the ground. Sophia moved to stand over him, and so did not notice the Orc coming at her from a blind spot on her right. Neither of them saw what happened next; one of the Uruk Hai struck the Orc down before it could reach Sophia and then he threw two others into the caldera, their screams echoing across the huge crater. The Uruk Hai paused, looking confused, and stared at Brandon, who was back on his feet, with a spear he had picked up off the ground.

Sophia looked up at the oncoming rush of Orcs in despair, but then she noticed a ripple running through the crowd and heard the sound of gunshots. Many of the Orcs were now looking over their shoulders, and others were turning and running in the opposite direction.

"Sophia," Brandon called out. "It's Les!" Then she saw him, his silver hair shining in the moonlight. He looked like a vengeful god, smiting the Orcs with a blade in one hand and a gun in the other. She nearly cried with relief.

"Sophia!" Brandon shouted, and she turned around just in time to see an axe blade descending towards her head. There was no time to parry the blade, there wasn't even time to scream. She knew she was dead and closed her eyes helplessly.

But the blow never landed. She opened her eyes just in time to see that someone had tackled the charging Orc and knocked him down. Sophia's mouth dropped in surprise when she realized it was one of the Uruk Hai who had saved her life. He cleaved the Orc's head right off its neck, and then the Uruk Hai looked up at Brandon and flung his sword. Sophia did scream this time, swallowing her scream into a gasp as the sword impaled another charging Orc behind Brandon.

They heard the gunshots coming closer, and the Uruk Hai looked at Brandon again, his brow furrowed as though he wanted to ask a question. But a bullet narrowly missed his ear, and he suddenly ran and disappeared over the crest of the mountain.

Sophia and Brandon continued to fight the now fleeing Orcs, the hope of rescue easing their exhaustion, at least for a few minutes. But a few minutes was all it took for Legolas and Liriel to reach them and kill the last of the Orcs, at least those that had not fled. Acharnor was nowhere to be seen.

"We have to get out of here!" Legolas yelled at them over the sound of the groaning, trembling earth, "Can you run?"

Brandon looked anxiously at Sophia, who nodded. Liriel went first, Brandon and Sophia close behind, with Legolas covering them. They had just reached the trailhead when the ground shook hard enough to knock Sophia, already struggling with the injury to her thigh, to the ground.

"Keep going!" Legolas shouted as he kneeled and lifted Sophia over his shoulder.

"You can't!" she gasped. "I'm way too heavy for you!"

But Legolas just chuckled and began to run. "I'm stronger than I look," he reassured her.

They were not able to move quickly, however, as Brandon kept stumbling and falling, cutting his hands and knees on the sharp rocks. The third time he fell on the trail, the caldera burst with a crack, and the mountain flung a sputtering fountain of magma high up into the air.

Sophia, who got a good at look at it from over Legolas's shoulder, drew in a breath to scream, choking instead on the sulfurous air.

"It's okay," Legolas gasped. "It's okay. The flow will go the other way. We just need to get away from the gas. We'll be okay."

Liriel pulled Brandon to his feet and put her arm around his back, helping him carefully down the path. When they were far enough away from the peak to be safe from the choking fumes, Legolas put Sophia down gently, and examined her injured leg. Liriel helped Brandon sit on the path and took off the pack strapped to her shoulders.

Legolas cut open the remains of Sophia's cargo pants, cleaned and tightly bandaged her wound. Liriel looked at the cut across Brandon's shoulders, deciding that it was better to leave it for now, since the blood had started clotting in the shallow slice. The bruise rising on his skin would soon cover half his back, though.

"Let's keep moving," Legolas said gently. "Okay? Can you both keep walking now?"

"I'm fine," Brandon said. "You, Sophia?"

But Sophia was staring back at the volcano, and the orange light of the lava reflecting against the night sky.

"We need to go back," she murmured.

"What?" Liriel said, frowning. "Back up there?"

Sophia nodded. "We have to get the other stone Acharnor was looking for." Legolas and Liriel exchanged glances. "It's there. I can feel it," she said wonderingly.

Legolas nodded. "I think it will come to you, Sophia, if we follow the lava. But let's go get the car and drive around the other side of the volcano, okay? This lava doesn't move too fast, and I don't think you're in any condition to walk back up there."

She nodded.

"You still have the other one, right?" Legolas asked Brandon, who nodded vigorously.

They continued down the slope as quickly as they could, with Liriel helping Brandon and Legolas alternately supporting and carrying Sophia. They were all tired by the time they reached the parking lot. The silver Porsche was alone in the lot; Acharnor's car was gone.

"That's yours?" Brandon asked, impressed.

"Hers," Legolas nodded at Liriel.

"It's a rental," she responded apologetically.

"I didn't know they rented cars like that," Sophia gawked.

"Well," Legolas said, opening the door for her, "whatever else it is, it is fast, and we'd better go. Hop in."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT: The Stone of Water**

They rode in silence for a few minutes.

"You saved our lives," Brandon finally stated.

"I don't know about that," Legolas said, turning in his seat to look at them. "You looked as though you were holding your own. Elrond will be very proud of you."

"Who?" Sophia asked, while Brandon gasped "Elrond?"

"Ah, your grandfather," Legolas said hurriedly. "I meant your grandfather. You obviously kept up with your training."

"Of course," Sophia agreed. "Les, who were those people?"

"They weren't people," Brandon said softly. "They were Orcs."

"Those aren't real," Sophia scoffed. "That's just fantasy, Brandon. Those things were very real."

"Nonetheless," Legolas interrupted, "Brandon is correct. They were Orcs. Some were Uruk Hai. That is why your blades glowed blue; they always will in the presence of such creatures."

That jogged Sophia's memory. "One of them helped us," she said. "The Uru Kai," she tried out the unfamiliar term.

Legolas frowned at her. "That's impossible."

"No, it's true," Brandon said, and Legolas stared at him in surprise.

"Wait," Sophia complained, "you believe him but you don't believe me? That is so unfair!"

Legolas looked at her mildly. "You don't even believe they are real," he pointed out, "so forgive me if I question your judgment."

"What did it do?" Liriel asked, sensing the start of a pointless argument.

"It killed a guy who was about to put an axe through my head," Sophia noted, stubbornly refusing to call them Orcs.

"And one that was about to attack me," Brandon added.

Liriel took her eyes off the road for a second to meet Legolas's look.

"I've just never heard of such a thing," he said gently. "They are dark creatures, created for the sole purpose of destruction. I have never seen one turn on its own, and trust me, I have seen a lot of Orcs."

"What's your real name?" Brandon asked suddenly.

"There's the lava flow," Liriel interrupted smoothly. "What do you want to do, Les?"

"Ah," he said, watching it for a moment, "it's moving faster than some flows do from these volcanoes." He glanced down the hill at the lights against the harbor. "Yeah, we have a problem - it's heading right for Hilo."

"Will they have time to evacuate?" Brandon asked.

"Sure," Legolas shrugged, "that siren's been going off since the shaking started at the summit. But that's a pretty big flow. It will completely destroy the city." He sighed, tapping a fingernail against his teeth.

"How about the stone?" Liriel asked him. "It seems like it has an affinity for fire, doesn't it?"

"Of course! Good idea," he responded. "Brandon, let's see if you can get the flow to shift direction a bit. Come on." Legolas jumped out of the car, and after a brief hesitation, Brandon followed him.

"This is nuts," Sophia muttered, hand on the door handle.

"Don't over think it, Sophia," Liriel said softly. "Don't question in your mind what your heart knows to be true."

Sophia looked at the woman's solemn face in surprise, and then nodded briefly before stepping out of the car. The fiery edge of a lava flow was boiling slowly down the slope next to them, burning every blade of grass in its path.

"Should we be standing so close?" Sophia asked nervously.

"The magma from these shield volcanoes is silica rich," Brandon lectured her. "You'd have to be really, really slow not to be able to outrun it, and it's pretty pourous, so there's very little danger of an explosion. The breeze is blowing the other way, so we should be safe from any gases that haven't already blown away."

"Thank you, Professor," Sophia rolled her eyes at him.

"Take out the stone, Brandon," Legolas directed. "See if you can push the flow that way," he gestured at the shoreline below Hilo. "You might need to help him, Sophia."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" she said, exasperated. "With a giant asbestos snow shovel or something?"

Legolas looked at her evenly, aware that her bad temper was just her way of dealing with the stress of battle and the unknown.

"You're the one who said you can feel the other stone," he pointed out. "I think you are well aware these are no ordinary gems, Sophia. You might be able to get it to respond to you, especially with that ring on," he gestured toward Melia's ring, and she frowned down at it. "Just try," he coaxed.

Brandon pulled the gem from his pocket and held it out in his hand, and Sophia closed her eyes as the stone's energy surrounded her, relaxing the sore muscles in her shoulders and chest. There was a tug at the edge of her thoughts, and she tried to calm her tumultuous mind - she thought of a still pond, a spring meadow, a full moon on the desert. And then a wave of coolness enveloped her, whispering across the bare skin of her arms. She could feel Brandon next to her, like a bright flame in a blue void, and together, they pushed at the lava. Not with their hands, of course, but with their thoughts and force of will.

And the lava responded, changing course away from the town and surging toward the water.

"We need to follow it," Sophia declared.

"The stone won't come to you?" Legolas asked, trying not to sound too disappointed, given that these two children had just fought off an entire army of Orcs and saved a city.

"Not yet," she answered. "Not until it reaches the water."

"Makes sense," Liriel commented. "Why don't we just drive down to the water and wait there? The way that's moving, it won't take too long."

Legolas nodded, and they all got back in the car.

"You should put the stone of fire back in the case," Legolas nodded to Brandon. "We don't want to advertise where you are any more than we already have."

"Acharnor got away," Sophia said. "Is that who you're worried about?"

"Yes," Legolas agreed, "among other things."

"Is he an Orc, too?" Brandon asked.

"No," Legolas shook his head. "He's not."

"Are you sure?" Brandon persisted, brows drawn. "Because I noticed that his teeth were pointed, and sometimes his eyes were red."

"What?" Legolas said, clearly startled, and Liriel sucked in a breath.

"Yeah," Sophia agreed. "And he kind of smelled like those other guys, too," she added, "the Uru guys."

"Uruk Hai," Brandon corrected her.

"Whatever."

They could tell that some kind of silent communication was going on in the front of the car, between Legolas and Liriel.

"What's that buzzing sound?" Sophia asked.

"Ah, that's just my cell phone," Legolas responded absently, staring out the window now.

"Aren't you going to answer it?"

"No, I don't think so. Not yet." The phone kept buzzing.

"It's really bugging me," Sophia complained. "Someone obviously wants to talk to you."

Liriel cleared her throat. "She's right, you know. You should let them know Sophia and Brandon are okay. Their grandfather will be very, very worried by now."

Legolas sighed. "I suppose you're right," he fished the phone out of his back pocket.

"Is that an iPhone 6?" Brandon immediately asked.

"Yes," Les answered, "with some modifications. Hello?" Wincing, he held the phone away from his ear a little, and they could all clearly hear the voice yelling at him.

"Where have you been?" The man on the other end of the line raged. "Why haven't you been answering the phone? Answer me now, Legolas!" Brandon gasped.

"It's okay, just calm down, Ron," Legolas said pointedly. "I have Sophia and Brandon right here in the car with me. Acharnor had them."

"What? Where did he take them?" Elrond said more evenly.

"Mauna Loa - the Long Mountain," Legolas paused to let that sink in. "We're chasing the second stone now."

"By all the Valar..." Elrond said. "Can you recover it? Is Acharnor chasing it, too?"

"Yes, I think so to your first question and no, I don't think so to the second," Legolas answered, looking back at his passengers, who nodded their agreement.

"He was injured," Sophia said helpfully.

"I think Sophia disabled him somewhat," Legolas smiled at her.

"Well, good for her. You tell her I'm proud of her."

"I'll tell her," Legolas winked at Sophia, who could hear her grandfather perfectly well.

"He wasn't alone, by the way. There were Orcs and Uruk Hai on the mountain," he said casually.

"WHAT?" Elrond bellowed, and this time, everyone in the car winced.

"I believe we killed most of them," Legolas continued calmly. "Sophia and Brandon did an admirable job of fighting them, and then Liriel and I came in for the finish."

Brandon muttered that Legolas was exaggerating.

"You let them fight Orcs ALONE?" Elrond shouted. "What were you thinking?"

Legolas sighed. "Ron, I didn't have much choice. Acharnor kidnapped them and brought them here, and he apparently had several hundred Orcs and a few Uruk Hai at his disposal somehow. There's more to say on that, but we're nearing the water and need to focus on the stone."

"Fine. But don't think for a second I will have forgotten about this by the time you get here. Your behavior has been inexcusable, and I really hate it when you don't answer your phone. Please give the children my love. Wait a minute. Del wants to talk to you."

"Legolas?" Glorfindel came on the line, and Legolas sighed, knowing that Sophia and Brandon had heard his whole name again.

"Yes?"

"You have both Silmarils?" Brandon made a choking sound in the back seat, and Sophia looked at him questioningly.

"Not yet; just one."

"Is it shielded?" Legolas looked back at Brandon, who sheepishly took the stone out and put it back in the obsidian case.

"Yes," Legolas answered.

"When you get the other one, you need to find a shielding container for it as quickly as possible. Obsidian is best; iron or lead will do. Otherwise, it will be like a beacon for that Balrog."

"I see," Legolas said slowly. "Acharnor made Brandon use the firestone to summon the other one, so does that mean we can expect the Balrog any minute?"

Glorfindel chuckled. "Fortunately, Balrogs don't have the power to defy the laws of physics, and I do not believe modern transportation is suitable for someone who uncontrollably emanates flame."

"You're talking over my head, Del," Legolas said impatiently.

"It can't dematerialize, it can't fly, and it takes four or five days to get from Los Angeles to Hawaii by boat. You have time - not much, but some time - before it gets there. So move fast, my friend. And don't get on the plane without a shield, or it will just be able to track your location quite precisely, and who knows what else is out there, now that we have confirmed there are Orcs and Uruk Hai. You should also destroy all the cell phones before you leave, by the way. Acharnor knows how to track those, too."

Legolas groaned. "But I really like this phone."

"Well, if you've been backing it up the way you're supposed to, it won't be a problem. I'll have a new one waiting for you."

"Thanks - we have to go now," he said, as the car came to a stop.

"Give my best to Sophie and Bran."

Legolas tapped the screen and returned the device to his back pocket.

"Legolas?" Sophia snorted. "Your mother named you after a fictional character?"

Legolas turned and looked at her. "Maybe the fictional character is named after me." He gave her a big smile, and opened the door. "Let's go."

"Something really weird is going on here, Soph," Brandon muttered to her as they followed Legolas out of the car. "Did you hear that he called our grandfather "Elrond"?"

"Yeah," she said, "so? Maybe they just really like Lord of the Rings. They do live in New Zealand now, you know - maybe they were extras in the movie or something, and they can't let it go."

Brandon looked at her in disgust. "And I guess the Orcs were just extras, too? And that cut on your leg isn't real? And if this is all make believe, why are you watching that lava like your life depends on it?"

Sophia didn't answer him, just pursed her lips and looked up at the burning lava making its way down the hillside in front of them. Watching its slow progress, she felt an almost electric surge of anticipation rush through her. Although she herself had never really been in love - her life was just too complicated for that - she imagined this was how it would feel, the almost synaptic rush of excitement fluttering through her cartilage. She calmed her thoughts and reached out, letting the stone gently brush her mind. She bit her lip to keep from laughing in response.

"I just can't process it all right now, Bran," she admitted softly. "I don't know what to think and I don't understand what I'm feeling. But I get that it's all real and that something important is happening. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, running his fingers along the obsidian box in his pocket.

"Everything alright?" Liriel said, approaching them. She and Legolas had discreetly been giving the siblings some space.

"I'm trying not to think too much," Sophia told her, and Liriel patted her on the shoulder.

"Good girl. How's the leg?"

"As I said, I"m trying not to think too much."

Brandon walked over to where Legolas was standing, his eyes fixed on the flow.

"Grandfather sounded pretty mad," Brandon commented.

Legolas chuckled, his eyes never leaving the slope above them. "Yes, I seem to have acquired a talent for pissing him off of late."

"I never saw him do more than raise an eyebrow, and that was bad enough."

"Indeed."

"You've known him a long time," Brandon stated, watching Legolas closely.

Legolas smiled, still keeping his eyes on the lava. "All my life," he hedged. "Are you alright?" Legolas asked softly, glancing at Brandon, who looked away.

"I'm fine," he said, far too quickly.

Legolas turned back toward the slope, waiting. He knew Brandon had already understood and accepted the situation, that elves and Orcs were real, that the stories he grew up on were not just stories. But something was obviously bothering him.

"And Sophia?" Legolas looked at Brandon sidelong. "Is she fine, too?"

Brandon closed his eyes tightly and whispered, "yes. No."

Legolas turned away from the lava and looked at Brandon sharply. "What did they do to her?" he asked, alarmed.

"One of the Uruk Hai punched her in the face, and Acharnor cut her. She's pretty tough, and I know she can take it, so I'm not really worried about that." He paused, and Legolas said a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn't anything worse. "But they did it to get to me, to make me do what they wanted. And I just fell apart, Legolas," he whispered. "Sophia couldn't count on me."

"You looked pretty confident when I saw you on the mountain," Legolas pointed out. "You did not seem to be in the least bit intimidated by hundreds of monsters screaming for your blood. Most American teenagers would have been completely helpless, not to mention scared out of their minds."

"That's different," Brandon said. "That was a battle. The calculus is completely linear: fight or die. I've trained for that situation my whole life - not that I knew why, mind you, but I'm glad it turns out there was a reason. But when I'm given a choice, do this or see the person you love suffer? Turns out I don't know how to do the math."

"No one does," Legolas said, looking at the boy until Brandon raised his eyes. He put his hands on both of Brandon's shoulders. "That never gets easier, but you do learn to trust your instincts and be at peace with your decisions, no matter how hard they may be. But it never gets easier."

"Not even in 3,000 years?" Brandon teased.

"Not even in 5,000," Legolas smiled back, turning again to watch the lava.

"I'm not sure that's all that reassuring," Brandon commented. "And I think we'd better get out of the way," he said casually. "It's going to start moving faster."

They all climbed down the steep slope to a cliff edge that dropped off into the water and they waited. Sophia was startled to see that the sky was beginning to lighten; another day was dawning.

Soon, the lava reached the edge of the shallow cliff and began dropping off into the rocky ocean, immediately sending up an immense cloud of steam. They were all so riveted by the collision of lava and waves that no one noticed Sophia, who appeared almost to be in a trance, approach the edge of the cliff. She wavered there for a moment, and then jumped into the water.

Liriel screamed and Brandon ran after her to the edge, but Legolas grabbed him and pulled him back.

"You stay here!" he yelled. "Hold him, Liriel!" She grabbed a struggling Brandon by the shoulders, as Legolas jumped into the water after Sophia.

Even with his heightened senses, he could not see a thing in the turbulence, and dared not get any closer to the lava flow than he already was - motlen rock was shooting out in all directions, and the water closer to the impact point would be superheated. He came up for air, looking around frantically for some clue as to where Sophia might be. Seeing nothing, he drew in another breath to go under, when he felt a strong current suddenly surge around him, lifting him up. Then Sophia suddenly broke the surface, gasping, about twenty feet further out to sea. He swam out to her, reaching her in a few, long strokes.

"Sophia" he shouted at her, "Are you alright?"

She appeared dazed but unharmed. Then she looked at him, eyes wide, and held out her fist. He could see a shimmering blue-green light streaming from between her fingers, and he sighed in relief.

"Come," he called out, over the roaring clash of water and fire, "it's not safe here - we have to get back to the shore." Sophia nodded. Without saying a word, she turned and moved rapidly toward the beach, easily outpacing him, though it did not look as though she was even swimming. They had to scramble up some slick, sharp rocks to get to the shore, leaving their hands criss-crossed with cuts by the time they pulled themselves up the cliffside.

Back on the bluff, Legolas sat with his elbows on his knees and his head down, breathing hard for a few minutes. "Warn me first the next time you're going to throw yourself into a boiling ocean, okay?" he finally said.

"Understood," Sophia panted back. "Though I should tell you now that I have no future plans to do so."

"You never know," Legolas said, rising to his feet and holding his hand out to her, "there are a lot of volcanoes in New Zealand."

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, nodding at the blood dripping off their joined palms. "Does this mean we have some kind of blood bond now?"

"Yes," Legolas said seriously. "There is definitely a bond between us."

Sophia flushed and snatched her hand away, and Legolas grimaced. He had learned the hard way not to ask for too much, too fast from mortals. Particularly mortals from this family.

"Sorry," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to sound like a creepy old man, there."

"No, no," Sophia said, backing away from him and chewing her bottom lip. "You're not old! I mean, ah, that wasn't creepy. It's just...you know...we, Brandon and I, we don't get out much."

Legolas had no idea what she meant by that, but he just nodded sympathetically and said, "I know what you mean."

Fortunately, Brandon and Liriel caught up with them at that point. Liriel shot him a quizzical look, to which he just shook his head and closed his eyes.

"Why did you do that?" Brandon exclaimed, grabbing his sister in a tight hug. "You could have been killed!"

Instead of answering, Sophia gently extricated herself from her brother's embrace and held out her fist, slowly opening her hand. The gem, so like the other in shape and size, sparkled with shifting shades of blue, shimmering like water where the other pulsed like fire. Legolas wondered if the gems had been cast into the volcano and the sea because of their properties, or if they had adopted the properties of their environments over the millennia. Perhaps they would have the opportunity to ask some of the original owners of these jewels, if the second prophecy of Mandos proved as accurate as the third was turning out to be, and all the elves were resurrected.

He started as he realized Liriel was talking to him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Do you think we have time to rest, before we go find a container for the stone?" She was gently swabbing at Sophia's hands.

"No," he said, looking at Brandon and Sophia and seeing that Liriel, as usual, was prompting him rather than truly asking a question. The siblings both looked dead on their feet. "Let's hit Hilo first and see if we can find a container; there will be plenty of time to rest on the plane."

Hilo, however, was a ghost town. Not a single store was open and there wasn't a soul in sight.

"I guess they all evacuated and don't know it's safe to come back," Liriel speculated.

Legolas glanced up at the mountain. "Maybe it isn't safe," he considered. "The mountain may not be finished with us. What do you think Brandon?"

Brandon reached into his pocket and brought out the gem, opening the box and running his finger along it. "Hard to say, honestly," he admitted. "The volcano is still unsettled. It could go either way."

"Alright," Legolas sighed. "I'm afraid we're going to have to leave Hilo to fend for itself. Let's get back to Honolulu. We'll pick something up there. Sorry, you two, but I'm going to have to ask you to last a little bit longer."

Everyone piled back into the Porsche and they headed to the airport. In their wearied state, none of them noticed that a very large man in a hoodie, with sunglasses that covered half his face, had been following them.


	9. Chapter 9

**_AN: thanks for the reviews!_**

**CHAPTER NINE: Taking Flight Again**

Sophia and Brandon both fell asleep as soon as they sat down, and Legolas and Liriel decided to let them rest for a couple of hours before heading into Honolulu.

"I could just go by myself," Liriel offered, but Legolas quickly rejected that idea. Acharnor was probably still in the area, and he might have other minions, as well. They needed to stick together.

"In any case," he told her, as she cleaned the cuts on his hands, "Glorfindel said the Balrog couldn't get here for four or five days, so we can afford to let them sleep a bit." Then he told Liriel about his misstep with Sophia, and she looked at him shrewdly.

"She is not her grandmother, you know," Liriel said. "She's not going to just throw herself at you. Neither of them is going to run away like their father, either."

"I am well aware of that," Legolas said stiffly.

"Anyway," Liriel continued, unperturbed, "I wouldn't worry about it. I'm pretty sure she just meant that she and Brandon spend a great deal of time alone together and don't have many friends. She probably thinks you're around her age - you look it, to a mortal."

"Right," he acknowledged. "I do forget that sometimes. I definitely don't feel like a teenager, thank the Valar."

"You'll really alienate her if she hears you calling her a teenager. She's 21, almost 22. That's a big difference to someone that age." He rolled his eyes.

They continued to talk in hushed tones until it was time to wake their passengers and head into Honolulu. Sophia and Brandon were speechless at the sight of the shopping district, which reminded them both of the main strip in Palm Springs, only bigger, cleaner, and more expensive. They did not have much luck finding a container, however. Coach bags, Jimmy Choo shoes, and Prada scarves were no problem, but small iron boxes were a little harder to come by. It didn't help that Liriel and Sophia were having trouble staying on track.

"Ooh," Liriel cooed, holding up a brightly colored sundress, "this would look so good on you!"

"You think?" Sophia said, looking doubtful. "I'm not really a dress kind of person. But I could definitely use some new pants," she picked at the shredded, bloody leg of her trousers, earning curious stares from the other shoppers.

Brandon and Legolas just looked at each other.

"I hate to break this up," Legolas cut in, "but there's an invincible, fire-breathing monster on the way here."

Sophia flushed. "Sorry," she mumbled, but Liriel just crossed her arms and glared at him.

In the end, they found something at Hawaiian Isle Memories, a franchise of the the same store Sophia and Brandon had been shopping in when they had run into Acharnor in the airport. It was a small, Kona wood box, much to Legolas's delight.

"It's perfect," he declared. "Kona is an ancient species of tree, which the people native to this island revere. They only harvest trees that have died of natural causes, and that ensures the wood will retain its special properties. They're dying out, actually."

"Why?" Brandon asked.

"Invasive species. And it's been getting hotter and drier where the trees generally grow. Anyway, this box will keep the gem even safer than the obsidian."

They were also able to get the New Zealand travel guide Sophia had wanted, a new pair of pants for her, and the black Aloha shirt Brandon liked so much. This time, he was pleased to observe, Sophia seemed to approve of, or at least tolerate, his selection.

"My dear ones," came a soft, feminine voice, as Legolas paid for their items. "I'm afraid you have tarried too long."

Sophia let out a little scream as she turned and saw the last person she expected to see. Melia Dorian, her erstwhile ranger friend, was standing right in front of her, although she might not have recognized the woman if she hadn't heard her voice first. Gone were the green ranger pants and khaki shirt: she was dressed in a long, flowing white gown, which glowed against her brown skin. Instead of a bun beneath a wide-brimmed hat, Melia's long dark hair flowed loosely over her shoulders.

"My lady Melian!" Legolas exclaimed, bowing his head. Liriel, too, bowed.

Brandon and Sophia flung themselves into Melia's arms.

"Where have you been?" one started.

"How did you know we were here?" the other spoke excitedly.

"Shh, shhh," she said, embracing them both, just as she had when they were small children. "I will tell you everything, but you must go now. Quickly. The Balrog is here."

Legolas paled. "Already?" he gasped. "Glorfindel said we had four days."

Melian smiled and shook her head. "It found a faster boat, I'm afraid. Let us go."

Legolas threw several hundred dollars at the stunned cashier, and they all fled from the store, Liriel holding her hand out to hail a cab.

"I never thought I would see a Maiar in a taxi," Legolas observed, eyes shifting up and down the street nervously.

"I have taken many cabs, my child," she responded serenely.

"My lady," Liriel broke in, still waving her hand at the passing cars. "Where is it and how long do we have?"

Melian cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. "Ah. It is here, now, I'm afraid. I will engage the beast, and then I want all of you to run. Leave the Balrog to me. Do you understand?"

"We can't just leave you here!' Sophia wailed. "Not when we only just found you!"

"We can't let you to face that thing alone," Brandon chimed in.

"You can and you will," she smiled, smoothing his tangled hair away from his forehead. "Do you understand me, Legolas?"

"Yes, my lady," he said quietly.

"Oh, and Liriel," Melian added, "when you get to the plane, you will have an additional passenger."

Liriel looked at her in confusion. "You want us to wait for you?"

"No, no," Melian waved a hand. "I shall meet you in New Zealand. Someone else is waiting for you on the plane. I urge you to keep an open mind," she shot Legolas a severe look, and he hunched his shoulders uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

"Go. Now," Melian abruptly called out. "See you soon," she added, turning to face the Balrog, which was now clearly visible on the street behind them, its blazing whip swinging over its head, fire surging out of its eyes. Tourists were running in every direction, screaming, and there was a car crash right in front of them, as frantic drivers tried to speed away from the rampaging Balrog.

"Givvvee mee the stonesss," it bellowed, "and I promise you a quick death!"

"I think not," Melian said calmly, facing the Balrog. A bright sphere grew between her open palms, and a jet of water suddenly shot out, smashing into the Balrog's face. It roared, and batted its hands at the rushing stream.

"Sophia!" Legolas yelled, grabbing her shoulder and wrenching her around. She had been staring, open-mouthed, at the flaming demon.

"We have to go! Now!"

"No!" she yelled back at him. "I am not leaving Melia! I can fight!"

"Her real name is Melian, and you have no idea how powerful she is! You would only get in her way," Legolas shouted, shaking her by the shoulders. "Do I have to carry you out of here again?"

"I'll stay with you!" Brandon broke in. "We can fight the Balrog together."

Just then, Melian's jet of water became more like a giant, whirling waterspout, and it threw the Balrog right through the front window of Tiffany's in an explosion of glass and diamonds. From inside the store, the Balrog roared so loudly, it shattered the windows on the shop next door, sending people inside diving for the counters. Without any warning, a giant fireball roared through the broken windows of Tiffany's, slamming right into Melian's jet of water.

"Melia!" Sophia screamed, and the Maiar turned her head to look at her young friend.

"You have to run!" She boomed. "Right now!"

Her head was only turned away for a second, but it was long enough for the Balrog's whip to strike, wrapping around Melian's torso. She screamed, and then grabbed the fiery rope in her hands, and began to pull.

"Do you see?" Legolas shouted desperately at Sophia. "She can't fight it if you're here!"

"He's right, Soph!" Brandon said to her. "We have to trust her."

Sophia nodded miserably.

"Come on!" Liriel called, running to the nearest car. "Get in!"

They all piled in the car, and Liriel jammed something into the ignition, which sent the car roaring to life. She stepped on the gas and rode right up on the sidewalk to get around the car wreck blocking the street. Sophia and Brandon turned and watched out the back window as Melian continued to pull on the rope wrapped tightly around her, the Balrog pounding out of the store and across the street toward her. Just when Sophia was ready to beg them to stop the car, Melian tore the rope in half, and a massive shockwave threw the Balrog to the side, propelling their car even faster foreword. The sphere of light in Melian's hands grew bright again, and she shot spears of ice at the beast, which lanced at its eyes and ears and throat.

The Balrog, however, turned its back on the Maiar, and began sprinting toward the car.

"Uh oh," Brandon said. "It's coming after us."

Liriel pressed the accelerator to the floor.

Melian threw chunks of broken concrete at the Balrog until it fell down, but it obviously got up much faster than she expected, and it lunged at her, sweeping its great fist down. Melian flew through the air and right through another shop window.

The Balrog got up and began to run after the car again.

"Melian is down!" Brandon called out. "And it's coming after us again!"

"Sophia," Legolas said, turning around in his seat. "I need you to use the ring!"

"What?" she said, shaking her head. "How do I do that?"

But it was Brandon who answered. "Do you remember, when we were fighting the Orcs, we suddenly had that dome of light around us? I really think that was you. Would that have been the ring, Legolas?"

"Yes!" he answered, "Yes! It has the ability to protect and conceal, and it can command water." They could feel the vibrations of the Balrog's mighty feet hitting the pavement as it closed in on them, the heat from the blank, fire-filled eyes filling the car.

"Now, Sophia! Just do it!"

Sophia closed her eyes and tried to relax her mind, even as sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She focused all of her thoughts on the ring, trying to remember how she felt up on the volcano when that mysterious light had stopped the Orcs. Suddenly, a pale light pulsed around her, slowly at first, and then building luminosity as it emanated out from her body and beyond the car.

The Balrog gave a thunderous roar.

Brandon started to say something, but Legolas held a finger to his lips. He didn't want Sophia distracted; she needed to maintain the shield as long as she could. Just then, there was an even brighter flash of white from down the street, which left them all dazed and blinking.

"Well done," Melian's voice whispered gently in Sophia's mind. "You may let go now, dear one; I have him."

Sophia sighed and relaxed, opening her eyes. "Melian is okay," she informed them. "She just told me she can handle it from here." They looked back and could see Melian, rising up in the air, surrounded by a nimbus of light. There was a beam of white cascading out of her hands, wrapping tightly around the Balrog.

They sped off toward the airport and soon lost sight of the battle, ditching the car in the drop off lane. They ran into the airport, threading through the crowd.

"If we all hold hands and you think about hiding us, we can just walk through security," Legolas told Sophia. "Do you think you can do it?" She nodded, and the four linked arms. Much to her surprise, it actually worked: no alarms went off, no security agents yelled at them. They were able to get right out onto the runway.

As soon as they were on the plane, Liriel hurried into the cockpit.

"Get in your seats," Legolas urged the stunned siblings. "And don't worry about Melian..." He stopped abruptly, and drew double knives from behind his shoulders. going into a fighting crouch. "Get behind me," he barked, as the plane began to taxi.

Standing in the aisle of the plane was one of the Uruk Hai, wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. The Uruk Hai stood very still, holding his hands out to the side.

"I...am safe," he said haltingly. "I...not hurt."

"Melian said we would have a passenger," Sophia reminded Legolas.

He snorted. "She can't possibly have meant that thing."

"Looks like we'll have to take him with us, in any case," Brandon observed, as the plane picked up speed.

"We can push his body out when we're airborne," Legolas growled.

"No, no," the Uruk Hai said frantically. "I come with you. I help."

"You're the one who saved us," Sophia suddenly realized.

The Uruk Hai nodded.

"Thank you," Brandon said quietly, and the Uruk Hai nodded again.

Legolas looked at them both in astonishment. "You really think that happened? It must have been an accident. I told you: it's just not in their nature. They were bred to kill."

"Be nice, Legolas," Sophia frowned at him. "After all, you're the only one threatening to kill anyone right now. And Melian told you to keep an open mind."

Legolas remained crouched in the aisle, facing the Uruk Hai, who watched him closely. Suddenly, the creature's mouth twisted upward, and its eyebrows screwed forward, and Legolas was startled to realize that the Uruk Hai was actually trying to smile at him.

"That," he said slowly, "may be one of the more disturbing things I've ever seen." He rubbed one hand wearily across his forehead, and began to speak in the dark tongue. "Just...just go in the rear of the plane and sit on the bench back there. If I so much as see a weapon near you, you're dead. And you are not to speak to these two. Got that?"

"Yes." the Uruk Hai said with relief at being able to communicate. "I don't understand this, either, Elf. All I know is that when that manling brought out the stone, everything changed."

"What do you mean?" Legolas frowned.

"I am not sure if I have the right words to describe it, even in my own tongue. But one minute, I did not think, I did not question, I only acted. The next, I thought. I knew. I saw." The Uruk Hai grunted in frustration. "The stone did something to me. Can I see it again?"

"Absolutely not," Legolas barked. Then he paused. "It's not here, anyway."

The Uruk Hai actually rolled his eyes. "Lying Elf scum. I can actually sense it, too, you know."

"Well, then you know, Orc filth, that your master can, as well, and we have no desire to make it any easier for him to slay these children."

The Uruk Hai looked thoughtfully, or what Legolas assumed was thoughtful, at Brandon and Sophia, who had their faces pressed to the window.

"Agreed," the Uruk Hai grunted. "I will wait."

Just then, the wheels lifted from the tarmac and they were airborne. Sophia and Brandon looked anxiously out the window, scanning the ground below for any sign of the battle.

Legolas moved back to lean over Brandon's seat. "Can you still see her?"

"Not really," Brandon said. "I thought I saw some red and white flashes... Oh no!" He cried. The terminal exploded in a great cloud of dust and smoke, and the Balrog came crashing out onto the runway. It roared in frustration when it saw they had taken off, and ripping a piece of metal from the terminal roof, hurled it after the plane.

"Incoming!" Legolas shouted up to Liriel, who twisted the steering column violently. The plane rattled, oxygen masks flying from the overhead compartments and bin doors popping up. Both Legolas and the Uruk Hai, who were not wearing seatbelts, were flung across the plane, Legolas hitting a row of seats.

"Did it hit us?" Liriel called out.

"I don't think so," Legolas answered, wincing and rubbing his ribcage. "Let's get out of here!"

Sophia gasped as another bright flash of white swept over the dwindling form of the Balrog. Brandon shook her shoulder and pointed out to sea, where a massive wave was forming. The wave swept over the shore and straight to the airport, where it pummeled the Balrog.

Just then, the plane banked sharply, and they could no longer see the airport. Sophia was biting a thumbnail.

"She will be fine," Legolas reassured them, knowing that he could not be entirely sure of that, but he figured it was a safe bet. After all, Gandalf had come through very similar circumstances, and Melian was far more powerful than the old Ishtar. "I have faced a Balrog twice now, and I am still here. Everyone else I fought with the first time lived to tell of it, too."

"Not exactly," Brandon corrected him. Brandon had read all of the Professor's works and likely seen every movie multiple times, according to Elrond.

"Not everything in the books is strictly accurate," Legolas warned, "but fair point. In any case, Melian is significantly more powerful than Gandalf is."

"Is?" Brandon said excitedly. "Are we going to meet him, too?"

"No," Legolas said, a tight feeling in his chest from the familiar sea-yearning and the longing for his friends and family who were so long gone. "I'm afraid not. He's not here anymore."

Brandon and Sophia continued to stare numbly out the window.

"Oh yes," Legolas said briskly, clearing his throat as the plane finally took off, "I'm going to need your cellphones. I promise we'll replace them when we get to New Zealand."

Sophia and Bran gave up their phones without complaint, much to Legolas's surprise. "I didn't think people in your generation were easily separated from their devices," he commented.

"We're not exactly like most people in our generation," Brandon noted solemnly.

"What he means," Sophia added, "is that most of the people we would want to talk to on the phone are either on this plane or in New Zealand."

The Uruk Hai grunted and held out a phone, as well.

"You?" Legolas said in shock. "You have a phone?"

"I am Uruk Hai," the beast said in its native tongue, "not an imbecile. Of course I have a phone. I have lived in this world for some time."

"How long?" Legolas asked curiously, "where did you come from?"

The Uruk Hai frowned. "I do not know," he admitted. "I was not aware, before, so I am not sure how I came to be here. But I do know I have had a phone for years."

Legolas examined the Orc's flip phone. "If the age of this thing is any indication, you've been here a long time, indeed."

"My master was not especially concerned with giving us the very latest technology," the Uruk Hai snapped at him.

"Fine," Legolas glared back. "Just go in the back now, as I told you to."

The Uruk Hai bowed mockingly, and shooting one last look at Sophia and Brandon, moved to the back of the plane, where he flung himself down on the bench. Legolas moved to the toilet near the cockpit, planning to smash and then flush the phones, releasing the septic tank as soon as they were further out to sea. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the Uruk Hai's phone. Who did an Uruk Hai call, anyway? Was it possible they could use it to track Acharnor or other Orcs? He removed the battery and the SIM card and stowed them in his front pockets, tucking the phone into his back pocket. He would have to get Liriel's once they were at cruising altitude and she could come back into the cabin as he was unwilling to leave their "guest" alone in the cabin with Brandon and Sophia.

He turned back into the cabin in time to see Brandon launch into a huge yawn.

"You both must be very tired," Legolas observed that Sophia was already nodding off. "These seats recline almost flat - why don't you get some sleep? I'll keep an eye on your friend, back there."

"Don't be mean to him," Sophia said, opening one eye to look at him as she pushed the seat down. "He's the only reason my head is still on my shoulders."

Legolas shuddered at what a catastrophe that would have been for all of Middle Earth. "I'll do my best," he sighed, "but no promises. I have years of experience and instinct working against me on this," he noted, but he saw his sarcasm was wasted. Both siblings were already asleep. He quietly opened an overhead bin and took out a couple of blankets, which he spread over them.

Unmoving, he stood and watched them sleep. There would come a day when he would stand like this by their bedsides and watch them die. To them, as they raced toward the peak of their years, the downward slope was a distant future they could not even imagine. But he could. He knew he would see each agonizing minute taken from them, never to be given back. Brandon still had the echo of a baby's soft cheek in the gentle curve of his face, but time and the hard life he was going to lead now would soon remove all traces of his childhood. Sophia was like an awkward colt, struggling to its feet, not yet knowing its own body, the swiftness in its legs and the running strength of its heart. These two had already learned far more than they should have about the sorrows of mortality, but they were still so young, so full of belief, striving and hope. It made him tired, to think he was going to have to stand by and watch as they lost all that, as gravity, time, and the faithlessness and greed of men weighed them down. He could not bear the thought that he would someday watch them fade, as he had with generations of Aragon and Arwen's children.

He sighed, and shook off his melancholy. These two were different. Indeed, it would all be different soon. Such maudlin thoughts were beside the point; his only preoccupation should be keeping them alive right now.

Forgetting his fears about the Uruk Hai, he went to get Liriel's phone.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN: The Mariner**

Seven hours later, Brandon and Sophia were still asleep, and the Uruk Hai had not moved.

"We should wake them up soon," Liriel said, coming back into the cabin. "Only about two hours to go." Legolas nodded. Just then, they heard a knocking sound, and the plane bucked. Liriel spun around and ran back to the cockpit.

"Legolas!" she cried out in alarm, "I need you up here!"

He rose hurriedly and shook Sophia's shoulder. "Sophia," he said softly. "You need to wake up now." There was the sound of a racing engine, and then the plane began to rapidly lose altitude.

"Legolas!" Liriel screamed.

Once he saw Sophia sit up and start to shake Brandon, he turned and made for the cockpit.

"What is it?" he said, sitting in the co-pilot seat.

"We're out of fuel," she said grimly, "we've had an engine flameout."

"How could that be?"

"I don't know," she answered. "Maybe a puncture in the tank and a slow leak. I should have noticed."

"Are we near anything?"

"Rarotonga is not too far, but it's not close enough. We won't make it."

"Can you put us down in the water without breaking the plane apart?"

"I think so," she said, staring out the window. "You'd better go tell them. The plane will sink fast, so they need to get out as soon as possible. We'll be down in 15 minutes."

Legolas hurried back into the cabin, noticing right away that the Uruk Hai was standing in the aisle.

"We're out of fuel," he told Sophia and Brandon. "We're going to have to land in the water. You'll need to move fast once we're down to get out." He looked up at the Uruk Hai, and addressed him in his own language. "We are going to crash. You should sit down and put on a seat belt."

"Is there any point to putting it on?" The Uruk Hai said grimly.

"Yes," Legolas answered. "We should be able to land intact."

"I have to go back to the cockpit," he told the siblings, who did not look as scared as he would have expected. "But don't worry - Liriel will get us down safely."

He went back to the co-pilot's seat and strapped in.

"You want to steer?" Liriel asked, gliding the plane as much as she possibly could, trying to slow them down and improve the angle of approach.

"No," he responded calmly. "You are a much better pilot than I am. Besides, you have more experience crashing planes."

She made a face at him. "That was only once, it was fifty years ago, and I was just learning. You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Not a chance," Legolas replied.

Liriel sighed. "Just give me any course corrections." They continued their rapid descent. "Hold on," she called out as they neared the surface of the water. At the last second, Liriel pulled up the nose of the plane slightly, and Legolas helped her hold the steering column even to keep the plane from cartwheeling. The belly of the aircraft slapped hard on the water, and the cabin shook violently, sending the oxygen masks flying once again and the bin doors slamming open and shut. Both Sophia and Brandon were braced against the seats in front of them, arms crossed. The Uruk Hai sat straight up, clawed fingers shredding the armrests, as the plane rose up briefly, and smacked into the surface of the water again, submerging for a few minutes before rising back up to alight briefly on the surface, before the depths would swallow it down.

Sophia and Brandon were out of their seats immediately and heading for the exit, when Sophia paused and looked toward the back of the plane.

"Come on!" she yelled at the Uruk Hai, but he didn't respond. She ran down the aisle and found him, still strapped in his seat, unconscious, a small gash on his forehead across a rapidly rising lump. His blood was dark and thick.

"Sophia!" Legolas was calling her. "Leave him! You have to get out now!"

But Sophia leaned down and unbuckled the Uruk Hai's belt, slapping his face. "Wake up!" she cried. She put her hands under his arms, but there was no chance she would be able to lift him. Then someone grabbed her shoulder. It was Legolas, face red with rage.

"Leave him!" he yelled at her again. "You have to get out - the plane is sinking!" Water was rising along the aisles, but Sophia flung her hand out angrily, and the water disappeared, the plane bouncing up slightly.

"I can't move him by myself," she shouted. "Help me!"

Legolas glared at her for a moment, and then just sighed and pushed her out of the way, toward the exit. He leaned over and dragged the Uruk Hai out of his seat, lugging it up the aisle, its heels scrabbling along the floor. Sophia stayed at this side, unwilling to go ahead until she was certain he wouldn't just drop the Orc and run - or be sucked under with the plane. They made it to the door and Sophia looked out at an endless expanse of azure, with sky and water nearly indistinguishable. The orange inflated raft drifting away from the plane stood out like blaze in the water; Brandon and Liriel were in it, waving and calling to her frantically.

"You'll have to jump," Legolas told her.

"What about him?" she gestured at the Uruk Hai. Legolas shook his head.

"I'll throw him in," he said, "and I'll jump right after and pull him up. It's the best we can do, Sophia."

She jumped out the door, gasping at the shock of cold water closing over her head. She and Brandon had spent several summers in junior lifeguards, which taught you how to keep your wits about you in the water, so she soon came up, sputtering, but calm. The water seemed to warm around her, and she barely even needed to move her hands and feet to keep up at the surface. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, and she felt it when the Uruk Hai hit the water, and Legolas a moment later. She tried to imagine a cushion, a column of water that would catch them and buoy them up, and when she opened her eyes, she could see it had worked. The Uruk Hai was floating face up on the surface, and Legolas was looking around in surprise.

"Sophia!" she heard her brother shouting frantically, and she reached out to tug the water around the Uruk Hai and the Elf toward the boat with her.

"Are you doing this?" Legolas called out, as he floated closer to her. A smile flickered at the corner of her mouth, but she didn't answer. She wasn't all that sure she could do more than one thing at a time just now.

They reached the life raft, and Sophia pushed the current of water up. "Help him!" she called out to her brother. Liriel and Brandon wrestled the Uruk Hai into the raft, Legolas gracefully pulling himself in behind. Sophia raised herself up out of the water, and more or less stepped into the boat.

There was an astonished silence, which Legolas finally broke. "Show off," he commented.

They all laughed with relief and just sat for a moment, breathing hard. Brandon moved closer to his sister and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Good thing we had a raft," Legolas mused, as they watched the aircraft sink below the waves. "You're not required to have one on a private plane like that."

"Elrond had me put it on before the last trip," Liriel noted.

"Really? Well, with any luck, that also means his sight told him he needs to come out here and rescue us."

Just then, the Uruk Hai groaned, and blinked rapidly. They all watched him in silence until he finally sat up.

"What happen?" he asked in English.

"Crash," Brandon said simply.

The Uruk Hai looked around in confusion. "How I get here?"

Legolas answered in the dark tongue. "You can thank the girl. She refused to leave the plane without you." He paused, and then added helpfully "I told her to leave you behind."

The Uruk Hai examined Sophia. "You save me now," he rumbled.

"It only seemed right," she said firmly, giving Legolas a disapproving glance.

"Right," the Uruk Hai said, staring at her.

"Yeah, you know: right and wrong, the golden rule?"

"I don't think he knows that one," Legolas muttered.

"Is your head okay?" Sophia asked, pointing to her forehead above her eyebrow. The Uruk Hai just grunted at her.

Everyone fell silent again, listening to the waves lap up against the side of the boat.

"Do we have any food or water?" Sophia asked.

Liriel shook her head.

"How far to land?"

Liriel squinted up at the sun and scanned the horizon. "Well, Rarotonga is the closest island, but it's many miles away, and the current doesn't run that way. We're more likely to be swept toward New Zealand, actually, but it would take us at least a week to get there even under power."

"We'll just have to wait for a rescue," Legolas said firmly. "Liriel sent a distress signal, and flight control in Rarotonga acknowledged it, so someone will come looking for us soon."

"We're out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean!" Sophia exclaimed. "It's a really big ocean - they'll never find us in time!"

"You know what I like about you, Sophia?" Legolas raised his eyebrows at her, "it's your sunny, positive disposition."

She scowled at him, crossing her arms. "I'm a realist, Legolas. I don't see how lying to ourselves will help anything."

"It's called hope," Brandon said. "We might as well have it, Soph. Beats the alternative." He rubbed her back, and she slumped over, defeated.

"Right," she agreed. "I do hope someone rescues us. Soon. There. Happy?" Brandon smiled at her and continued rubbing her back.

They floated for hours, though, with no sign of any rescuers on the wide horizon.

"What language are you speaking when you talk to him?" Brandon suddenly asked Legolas, pointing at the Uruk Hai.

"The dark tongue. It's what Orcs speak."

"You speak Orc?" Sophia said incredulously.

"He speak bad," the Uruk Hai observed. "Sound like shrieking goat."

Sophia and Brandon cracked up, while Legolas raised his eyebrows at the Uruk Hai. "Well," he shot back, "you sound like a cement mixer."

"Actually, you sound better," Brandon observed. "Your English seems to be getting better, or at least easier to understand." Brandon peered at the Uruk Hai. "In fact, you look a little different, too."

The Uruk Hai shrugged. "Feel different."

"You saved our lives and we don't even know your name," Sophia said. "We can't keep just calling you "Uruk Hai."

"No name," he shrugged. "Only leaders have names. I am just Uruk Hai."

Sophia scowled. "Well, we shall have to think of a name for you." The creature shifted uncomfortably, coming dangerously close to puncturing the boat with one of his clawed fingers.

"Are Uruk Hai immortal, too, like elves?" Brandon asked him.

Legolas snorted in disbelief, and the Uruk Hai shook its head.

"Wait," Sophia said, "elves are immortal?"

"Yes," Liriel said softly. "We can be killed through violence, but otherwise, we do not die."

"How old are you?" Sophia asked her.

"Young, compared to Legolas, and very young, compared to Elrond and Glorfindel."

"And that would be how many years old?" Sophia persisted.

"2,000, give or take a hundred."

Sophia sat back, stunned. "And you?" she demanded, turning on Legolas.

"5,000," he said softly.

They drifted in silence.

"Why are you here?" Sophia finally asked, to a boat full of confused looks. "I mean, why us, Brandon and me? Why were you looking for us? Why was Elrond pretending to be our grandfather?"

Liriel and Legolas glanced at each other, and she nodded at him.

"I wouldn't say Elrond was pretending, exactly," he said, as the last sliver of sun slipped passed the horizon. "You are, in fact, descended from him through his daughter."

Brandon gasped. "We're related to the King of Gondor and the Evenstar?" he asked excitedly.

Legolas nodded. "Many generations, but yes, you are of their line."

"Is that why?" Sophia persisted.

"Just tell them," Liriel said, exasperated. "They deserve to know."

Legolas shot a sidelong glance at the Uruk Hai, and began to sing softly, in a voice that rang through the air with a crystalline purity.

_In the Seventh Age of Man _

_The song will end as it began_

_A breach in the Door of Night_

_Hate and rage stir the fight_

_Discord haunts Arda's dying lands_

_Destiny rests in the walker's hands_

_His duty to guide the Dunedain_

_A strong bond, the dark's bane_

_To the stones, borne of a father's death_

_Exhaled in long mountain's breath_

_Only then will the children of Eru rise_

_For the final battle as Arda dies_

_Then the song will start again_

_And end forever the Age of Men._

They sat in the dark, each lost in their thoughts.

"You are the last of the Dunedain to be born in the Seventh Age," Legolas finally said, "We always thought it referred to just one person. It would have saved us a great deal of trouble if it had said "children" or "heirs," but it is in the nature of prophecies to be vague. One thing is unambiguous at this point, though: you are both the Dunedain in the prophecy. And that's why we have watched over you, and helped you find your full potential."

"Prophecy?" Brandon finally asked. "I don't remember it from the books."

Legolas shook his head. "We didn't tell the Professor this one. He was a remarkable man and had begun to write a full mythology based on what he could find about us and his own considerable imagination, and we cooperated because we decided that our story should be known. But not all of what he wrote is the true history, and not all the true history is in what he wrote."

"Why not?" Sophia asked.

"This is the prophecy of Dagor Dagorath - the end of days. We thought it was better if it were not known. Humans tend to be easily spooked as it is."

"End of days?" Sophia whispered into the darkness. "The world is going to end?"

"Yes," Liriel responded. "It is already dying, our beautiful Earth. The dark angel's poison has been spreading into the minds of man and across the land for hundreds of years. There was nothing we could do to stop it."

"Dark angel?" Brandon asked. "You mean Melkor?"

The Uruk Hai hissed, and Legolas looked at him with interest. "You know him?" he asked the creature.

"Best not to speak of him here, or to use his name," the Uruk Hai told him in his own language. "We are vulnerable out here in this tiny vessel, and he wants those stones very much. He has other servants and allies than the Balrog and the Orcs."

Legolas regarded him. "We shall speak of this later, then." The Uruk Hai nodded briefly.

"Who's the 'walker'?" Sophia interrupted.

"He is," Liriel smiled, pointing at Legolas. "He was one of the original nine walkers on the quest for the one ring."

"Oh," the girl responded, eyes wide. "Like in the movie, with the hobbits?"

Legolas nodded, but did not elaborate. Even though the fellowship lasted for only a few of his many years, it was one of the most important and happiest times of his life. It did not bring him joy, however, to remember his long dead and departed friends, and he did not even try to hide the sorrow that welled up within him.

"Did you ever hook up with that girl Elf?" Sophia asked him. "Tauriel?"

"Tauriel wasn't even in the books," Brandon said disgustedly. "The director made her up. Hollywood."

Liriel made a sort of strangled sound and Legolas started laughing.

"The character of Tauriel was based on Liriel," he crowed.

"She was not," Liriel said heatedly. "I was never in love with a dwarf!"

"The character is exactly like you," Legolas teased, "right down to my unrequited passion for you."

Even in the darkness, they could all tell she was giving the chuckling Elf a dirty look.

"She's actually married to one of my closest friends," he explained to Sophia and Brandon.

"I don't even like dwarves!" Liriel insisted. "And they made her feisty. I'm not feisty. Fierce, okay. Iron-willed, fine. I'll even take lively, but feisty? Ugh."

Legolas was laughing hysterically.

"You should be saving your energy," she grumbled at him.

"I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've had this particular exchange," Brandon observed.

"No," Legolas said, wiping a tear from his eye. "We all worked with the film crew in New Zealand, and Elladan and I suggested the Tauriel character to the director. She didn't even know about it until she saw the movie. That was the best prank we've pulled in centuries."

"Elves, immortal creatures of otherworldly beauty and power, like to prank each other?" Sophia said in disbelief.

"You have no idea," Liriel sighed.

They all fell quiet after that, the three mortals drifting in and out of sleep through the night.

The sun rose on a horizon that looked just as endless and empty as it had the day before. Sophia's mouth was so dry, she didn't think she could even talk. Just then, Brandon's stomach grumbled, and she could feel the vibration through the inflated walls of the boat.

"Sorry," he muttered. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. Watching them, Legolas knew he needed to distract them from their hunger and thirst or they would begin to despair.

"I know how you found the second Silmaril," he said softly, "but how did you come by the first?"

"It was our father," Brandon responded. "He found it in Afghanistan."

"Found it?" Legolas frowned.

"He was in the mountains, at a volcano actually, when a tribesman approached him. He knew our father's name, told him he had something to give him for us."

"Did he say what this man looked like?"

"Short, really old, big tangled beard, laughing eyes."

"Sounds like Radagast," Liriel commented, and Legolas nodded.

"He told my father he was going to die," Sophia croaked. "And he sent us the stone. We think our mother might have touched it."

"Ah," Legolas said, "That would make sense."

"Did you know him?" Brandon asked. "Our Dad?"

Legolas shifted around uncomfortably. "Um, yes. I did. Yes."

The siblings waited for him to elaborate.

"We were close, actually, when he was young. I taught him, trained him, showed him how to be a warrior."

"What happened?" Brandon asked.

"He joined the Army. Special operations. I didn't want him to and we fought about it. His life was too important to risk, but he was determined to prove himself. We had a falling out." He looked down at his hands. "Your mother blamed me, Elrond, Glorfindel, all of us. She blamed us when he died, too."

"How come we never saw you when we were growing up?" Sophia asked.

"It was my fault," he said softly. "I'm the one who sold him on stories of glorious war. When you were born, I didn't want to make things any worse, so I left. Glorfindel and Elrond agreed that was best."

"Not your fault," Sophia whispered, closing her eyes and reaching a hand out for his, squeezing his fingers. "It was his decision."

They all fell silent again, conserving their strength. Legolas knew the two humans could only last another day at most without water, given the bright sun and the constant breeze. He considered letting them bring out the stones, even though it would identify their location to foe as well as friend, and finally decided that would have to be a last resort.

By the end of the day, the Uruk Hai was holding up reasonably well, but Sophia and Brandon were slipping in and out of consciousness.

"How long do you think we will have before he finds us if we bring out the stones?" Legolas quietly asked the Uruk Hai.

"Not long. He will send something," he grunted.

"What will you do?" Legolas asked. "Will you fight for him, or for us?"

The Uruk Hai looked at him, and answered in the dark tongue. "Before the stone awakened me, there was no choice."

"And now?" Legolas prompted.

"I choose me," the Uruk Hai answered, tapping his own chest. "I choose having a choice. I will fight for him no more."

Legolas nodded.

"Will you sing to us again?" Brandon asked dreamily.

Legolas nodded, watching the boy with concern. They would have to bring out the stones soon, no matter the consequences. He considered what to sing, then decided Bilbo's Song of the Mariner would be most fitting, given their circumstances. He was just starting the third verse, when he heard Liriel gasp.

"Legolas," she whispered urgently, pointing at the horizon. He kept singing, not wanting to raise anyone's hopes until he was sure of what she was seeing. He narrowed his eyes, peering in the direction she pointed, and he saw it, too: a white shape, sparkling in the bright sun and moving swiftly toward them. He gave a silent prayer to all the Valar that the ship would come their way, for they had no means of signaling something so far off. He kept singing.

His prayer must have been heard and accepted, for the ship was, indeed, moving directly toward them. He frowned as he watched it approach. It was a sailboat, and it was under sail. That seemed impossible. There were certainly people who would from time to time sail these vast distances, but this boat was moving far too fast to be powered only by the persistent but soft wind. He broke off his song abruptly.

"Don't stop singing," Sophia whined. "It's so beautiful."

"There's a ship," Liriel told her, smoothing a hand across Sophia's brow. "It's heading right for us."

Sophia sat up, with a sudden surge of energy, Brandon following suit. "Look, Bran," she said excitedly. "Can you see it?"

"Yes," he said, attempting to lick his blistered lips. He smiled at his sister. "See? Hope is a good thing."

She laughed at him. "You know I'm not as pessimistic as I sound. It's just easier to exceed expectations when you lower the bar."

"I think it's time for you to raise the bar," Legolas said mildly, as he watched the ship approach. It was, indeed, a sailboat - a 72 foot yacht, really, with sparkling silver sails, and it was slicing through the water as though racing in a regatta. A tall man, with long fair hair, stood at the helm. Legolas stared at him.

"I think," Liriel said slowly, "I think the captain of that ship is an Elf." Legolas nodded. "Do you recognize him?" Liriel asked, staring at the boat. "I don't."

"I think..." he started, and broke off. It couldn't be.

The ship came along side, turning neatly so the sails emptied and went slack. The captain threw a weight over one side, and then dropped a ladder on the side closest to them and threw them a line, which Liriel caught smoothly. There did not appear to be any crew on the ship.

"Come aboard," he called to them in Sindarin, and though he had not raised his voice, it carried as though he had been using a megaphone. Liriel pulled the raft up to the ship, and handed the rope to Legolas.

"Perhaps I should go up first," Liriel murmured, "and see what we're dealing with, here."

Legolas nodded.

She scaled the ladder, accepting the hand held out to her at the top. Legolas gestured at Sophia and Bran to wait, and Liriel soon called out "safe to come aboard." There was a joy and lightness in her voice that Legolas had not heard in some time, certainly not since she had last seen Elladan and her daughter. His heart began to race.

"Go ahead, Brandon," Sophia urged him. The boy hesitated, and Sophia pushed him gently on the shoulder. He nodded briefly and pulled himself up, slowly and painfully, with the last of his energy. Two hands pulled him up over the side.

"Go, Sophia. You should warn the captain about the Uruk Hai, if Liriel hasn't already. We wouldn't want him to skewer your friend before we had a chance to explain."

She nodded, and started up the ladder. She was only one rung up, however, when she faltered and nearly dropped back into the raft. Before Legolas could move to her aid, however, the Uruk Hai was there, holding her up. She looked back at him gratefully, as he supported her weight. Legolas was shocked at the creature's action, but also that it was capable of moving smoothly enough not to upset the raft.

"Go next," Legolas directed the Uruk Hai, who looked back at him. "Go," he urged, and the Uruk Hai nodded. Legolas tied the guide rope onto one of the raft handles so they could pull it aboard later. He didn't want to leave any potential clues for pursuers as to where they might be. Then he scrambled up the ladder, jumping lightly to the deck.

"You are welcome aboard, singer," the Captain said in Sindaran, eyes twinkling. Legolas felt the blood drain from his face as he looked at the stranger, with his shining alabaster skin, deep blue eyes, and long, golden hair.

"No," he whispered. "It is impossible. It cannot be you."

"And yet it is," the man laughed. "And why are you surprised? It is you who summoned me, is it not?"

"Who is he, anyway?" Sophia interrupted impatiently. The captain looked at Legolas, who translated Sophia's question.

"I am the Mariner in his song, of course," the man said gently to her. "I am Earendil."


	11. Chapter 11

**_AN: Thanks so much for the feedback! We really appreciate it - keeps us going. And we just realized that a chapter got lost here - so rather than renumber everything, we're going to attach to the end of this one as Chapter 11.5_**

**Chapter Eleven: Passages**

"Did he say he is Earendil? No way!" Brandon exclaimed, just as his knees gave out and he fell to the deck.

"Brandon," Sophia cried, running to his side. She flopped to the deck beside him and cradled his head in her lap.

"Are you alright?"

"Extremely, extraordinarily embarrassed," he murmured, and Sophia smiled, pressing her cheek to his forehead.

"I'm not going to be getting up from here any time soon," she told him, "if that makes you feel any better."

"Here," Earendil said, holding out a waterskin, "you are both very dehydrated. You should drink."

"He says you should drink," Legolas translated for the siblings.

"Now, singer," Earendil said, turning to Legolas, "perhaps you could explain a few things to me. You may begin with why you have brought this creature onto Vingilote, my ship," he gestured at the Uruk Hai.

"That is a long story, and one I don't entirely understand, myself," Legolas admitted. "Suffice it to say that he is no threat, at least for now." He glanced at the Uruk Hai, who held his hands out to the side and attempted his smile again. "But if you will give me leave, my Lord, where have you been?"

"I am afraid I cannot answer that," Earendil said with a frown, "largely because I do not know. What year is this?"

"We are at the end of the 7th Age of Man," Liriel told him, in halting Sindarin, "in what they call the 21st century."

Earendil's eyebrows shot up. "Then I have been gone a very long time, indeed, and it is no mystery as to why I have been called back now." He looked at Sophia and Brandon, passing the waterskin back and forth. "Which would also explain why they have the other stones," he said softly, pulling a sparking, diamond-like stone on a thong around his neck from under his robes.

Legolas gasped at the beauty of the star-stone. "But will that not summon dark creatures to us?" he asked the Mariner, looking out at the horizon.

"Not to worry, singer, I am capable of shielding the Silmaril from notice."

Brandon looked up at the word "Silmaril" and promptly took the obsidian box out of his pocket. "Here, my Lord," he said softly to Earendil. "This is yours, by right. Yours, too, Sophia." She looked startled, but took the wooden box out of her own pocket without hesitation and held it out.

Earendil just looked at them, astonishment and then affection plain on his face. "There are not many, in the long history of Arda, who would willingly give up such power. Tell them they are to keep them."

"My Lord," Legolas began.

"At least for now," the Mariner qualified.

"He wants you to keep them, for now," Legolas explained.

"Are these mortals?" Earendil asked. "They appear to be, but I sense they are of my bloodline."

"Yes," Legolas answered, "they are descended from both of your sons."

"And you, singer?"

"I am called Legolas; my father was Thranduil, King of Mirkwood."

"Ah, Oropher's son. Was? He was slain then? I grieve for your loss, child."

"Thank you, Mariner, but no, he was not slain. He has merely passed on to Valinor."

"And why have you and your wife not done so?"

"Alas, I have no wife. This is Liriel, my friend and the wife of your grandson, Elladan. We wait here in Arda, to fulfill the Prophecies of Mandos, along with Elrond. "

The ancient Elf's face lit up. "Elrond!" he said affectionately. "How I long to see him! And perhaps to meet my grandson?"

"Yes, my Lord, two grandsons, Elladan and Elrohir. That was who we were trying to reach when our...transportation was destroyed."

"Ah. That would explain how you came to be floating in the open ocean on an orange cabbage leaf."

"What is he saying?" Sophia finally broke in.

"He just wants to know who we all are," Liriel reassured her.

"Will he take us to New Zealand?" Sophia asked.

"What does she say?" Earendil asked.

"She wants to know if you will take us now to Elrond."

"Of course," the Mariner said delightedly. "If you will come inside and show me on the charts where he is, I shall set the course. Lady Liriel, if you will join us, I will show you to nourishment, which you may bring out to your companions. If the human children wish to rest inside, they may do so, but I will not have the creature in my cabin."

"Yes, my Lord," Liriel said softly.

They went inside and Earendil showed Liriel to the galley, gesturing to Legolas to follow him into his chambers. "Now, where is my son?"

"He is in Gray Havens, my Lord," Legolas explained.

"Well then," Earendil clapped Legolas on the shoulder, "we are very near. We should be there in a week. Will he not be surprised to see me?"

"Yes, Lord Earendil, he will be very surprised."

"Come, let us look at the charts."

Once they had recovered from their ordeal, the companions relaxed on the deck of the boat; the sun that had seemed so brutal now felt warm on their faces, and the parching wind felt like a gentle caress. Where their little raft had seemed to stagnate in the still water, the ship sliced through the blue deep. Even the Uruk Hai, who was forced to sleep on the hard, open deck, seemed content.

"He shares his food," the Uruk Hai shrugged, when Sophia expressed concern about his exclusion. "That is good enough."

Earendil insisted that Legolas sing for him constantly, occasionally joining in with his own powerful baritone. He also asked Sophia and Brandon to teach him English, and it was during one of these lessons with Sophia that he took her hand and pointed to her ring.

"Where, my Lady Liriel, did the child come by this ring? If she knew its powers, you should not have gone thirsty in your little boat, nor should you have been so becalmed. I shall have to teach her. The last time I saw this ring, it was in the possession of Finarfin's daughter, Galadriel."

"He wants to know where you got the ring," Liriel explained.

"Melia, that is Melian, gave it to me."

Earendil raised his eyebrows at the mention of Melian's name.

"She has seen the Queen of Doriath?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes," Liriel explained. "We just saw her; she saved us from a Balrog near Long Mountain. Melian also helped to raise Sophia and Brandon, along with Elrond and Glorfindel."

"Glorfindel!" Earendil exclaimed. "He has stayed behind, as well?"

Liriel nodded.

"But this is wonderful news," the Mariner mused. "We will have some powerful allies on our side."

"What is he talking about?" Sophia asked.

"He's assessing the strength of our side."

"Side?"

"For Dagor Dagorath," Liriel said softly. "The Battle of Battles."

"Oh," Sophia said quietly, looking off at the horizon.

"Does the little one know what is to come?" Earendil said softly, stroking Sophia's hair.

"Not really, my Lord," Liriel admitted. "She and her brother were trained to fight, but they were brought up in ignorance of their lineage."

"I do not believe that was wise of my son," Earendil frowned.

"They raised her grandmother with full awareness of the prophecy and her heritage," Liriel explained, "and that turned out to be a mistake. This Age of Man is very different from the times you knew; our past and their present do not mix well."

"Ah, I see," Earendil nodded his head thoughtfully. "Her mind was too weak to absorb the truth?"

"I am afraid so. It did not end well."

"This one has no such weakness," Earendil smiled at Sophia. "I can see nothing but strength and light in her. She and her brother will be worthy champions for us all. There is a reason the Silmarils call to them."

"My lord?" Liriel said, startled, shooting a glance at Legolas and Brandon, sitting and talking up in the bow of the ship.

"Yes, surely you realize that is what the prophecy means? It is not I who must carry the stones to Valinor and unite the children of Iluvatar against the dark this time; it is Sophia and Brandon who must do so."

"What is he talking about now?" Sophia asked. "I heard him say my name."

"Daughter," he answered her in English, kissing her on the forehead. "Brave."

Sophia smiled at him. She and Brandon had spent so many years alone, moving from place to place and living with the secret of their mother's mental illness, she had forgotten what it was like to be around other people. Her grandfather and his friends had been very private and aloof with strangers, but warm and affectionate with each other and with her and Brandon. And she only now realized how much she had missed it - being loved, being held, feeling that she was protected. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the strong arms of her ancestor.

"Yes," he murmured, "rest."

Out on the deck, Brandon squinted down at the water frothing around the prow of the ship.

"Have you noticed those weird sharks that keep turning up?" he asked Legolas. "The ones that almost look like they are made out of metal? I see them sometimes and think they're following us, but then they disappear. And I figure I'm seeing things, unless there's some shiny species out in these waters?"

Legolas shrugged, and squinted out at the water. "It's not your imagination. I've seen them, too," he acknowledged, "but never before now. I don't know what they are."

Brandon squinted up at the sky. "And that's not all. I'm pretty sure I've seen a white bird following the ship," he told Legolas. "Are we near land?"

Legolas shook his head.

"Earendil didn't think so either," Brandon observed. "Said something about it being an unusual bird." They fell silent, staring as the great white bird swung into view, beating its wings against an empty horizon.

"So, if we're nowhere near land, does that mean we're going to run out of freshwater and food?" Brandon asked.

Legolas shook his head. "Earendil has ways of keeping abundant supplies of freshwater aboard, and he's been teaching Sophia how to use her ring to summon moisture out of the air, in any case. We can always catch fish if need be; they are certainly plentiful in these waters."

"So, want to spar again?" Brandon asked eagerly.

Legolas laughed. "Don't you ever get tired?"

"No," Brandon smiled. "How about it?"

And so the two men took swords from Earendil's collection, stripped off their shirts, and dueled on the front deck.

"Good, that's good," Legolas encouraged Brandon. "You're moving your feet much better now. See if you can keep your wrist more rigid, but your shoulder loose. Good, that's it."

A few minutes later, Sophia joined them on the deck, and all three fenced, with the siblings quickly ganging up on the Elf. Sophia was the more aggressive fighter, but Brandon was quicker, with more finesse. They made a lethal pair, and Legolas was soon breathing hard. He suddenly whirled around behind Brandon, and as Sophia moved to follow him with a thrust to the side, he spun again and grabbed her wrist, pinching the nerves. Her sword went clattering to the deck. He had taken his eyes off Brandon for a moment in making the maneuver, however, and now found himself at swordpoint, though he had an arm around Sophia and a knife at her throat. Legolas raised his eyebrows at Brandon, who smiled and lowered his blade. He released Sophia, who rubbed her neck and glared at him.

"You overcommit, Sophie," Legolas told her. "Try to hold back a little. Don't let yourself be baited."

She grumbled about snooty elves with a multi-millennial advantage.

"Oh, did you want me to go easy on you?" he inquired mildly.

"No," she sulked.

"The child likes to win," Earendil observed fondly.

"She does, indeed," agreed Liriel.

"Legolas is trying to get the boy accustomed to having his sister under threat," he mused.

Liriel looked at him startled. "You think so? Why would he do that?"

"Because it is his weakness," Earendil observed. "He fears for his sister, and it distracts him from the fight. It could be his undoing. The son of Thranduil is trying to help him prepare himself. Ah, now this should be interesting."

The Uruk Hai had come on deck to watch, too, and now he stepped forward, motioning to Sophia to pick up her sword and gesturing to Brandon to step in. Legolas held his own sword out to the Orc, who hesitated before grunting and taking it.

The Uruk Hai immediately charged at Sophia with a fierce overhead cut, and Liriel gasped. But Sophia had ducked under the cut, and Brandon slashed out sideways as the Orc finished the arc of his motion. Sophia came up behind him triumphantly, but the Uruk Hai moved faster than seemed possible for a creature of his size, parrying Brandon's thrust and turning to slash savagely at Sophia.

"I hope he knows this is just practice," Liriel worried.

"He does," Earendil reassured her. "He is just attempting to show them how his kind fights." Earendil watched with great interest, stroking his chin with his fingers. "It is a most valuable lesson."

Just then, Sophia feinted to the right and stepped left suddenly, swiping at her opponent and making contact with his upper arm. She gasped and dropped the point of her blade.

"Oh no," she cried, "I am so sorry!"

But the Orc smashed his sword into Brandon's, bringing him to the ground, and then swung his blade forward, stopping with the tip almost touching Sophia's chest.

"Never stop!" he growled. "Orc never stop. Never. You not stop, either."

Sophia nodded, breathing hard. "Got it," she said. "Now let's look at that wound." The Uruk Hai dropped the point of the blade to the deck and stood patiently while Sophia fussed over his arm.

"We'll need to bind it," she said briskly.

"Not necessary," the Uruk Hai shrugged.

"Well," Sophia said darkly, "I do not wish to be responsible for your pain, so you stay right there." The Uruk Hai watched her go into the cabin, and even on its gnarled face, the expression of indulgence was unmistakeable.

"Most interesting," Earendil mused.

Sophia returned with medical supplies, and the Uruk Hai stood still while she cleaned the wound and bandaged his arm. As soon as she finished, the Uruk Hai began instructing them again, waiting impatiently for Legolas to translate his words. He explained Orc tactics and fighting style, using the Elf as his demonstration partner. The Mariner watched quietly with Liriel.

Later that night, Earendil approached the Uruk Hai reclining on the deck of the ship and crouched down next to him.

"You care about those children," he observed, speaking in the dark tongue. The Uruk Hai said nothing, but he watched the Eldar from under hooded eyes.

"Legolas tells me you are some newer kind of Orc, originated after my time. He knows not how you were made."

The Uruk Hai grunted. "Nor do I, Elf."

"Well, I believe you are being unmade, Orc."

The Uruk Hai sat up.

"You are changing. Even in the five days you have been on my ship, you have changed."

The Uruk Hai nodded. "It was the stone. Do you know what I am changing into?" he asked, unable to keep a tone of eagerness out of his voice.

Earendil shook his head. "The original Orcs your master made were elves that had chosen to throw in their lot with him, and his power corrupted their bodies. Others, he captured and tortured until they submitted. It is possible you were formed the same way, but without knowing how you were made, I am afraid it is difficult to know what you will become."

"It can be no worse than what I was," the Uruk Hai said, and the Mariner actually clapped him on the shoulder before he rose and returned to the helm.


	12. Chapter 12

**_We originally made a posting error, starting here - corrected now, but the chapter headings are a litle out of whack. The correct chapter titles are included with the text! Sorry about that - Theo &amp; Pheas_**

**CHAPTER TWELVE: Reunions and Transformations**

Usually, it would have taken an ordinary sailboat two weeks or more to reach New Zealand, but Earendil's ship was not ordinary. They were approaching the northern tip of New Zealand after only one week.

"You know," Brandon said to Earendil, pointing into the sky, "I could swear that white bird is following the ship."

"Yes," the Mariner agreed, watching the bird soar above them, "she is."

Brandon frowned, and seemed to be on the verge of saying something else when Legolas interrupted.

"Elrond and the others are on the South Island, or Te Waipounamu, in the mountains along the western coast," he explained to Earendil, with Liriel translating for everyone else. "But there's no decent harbor in the west. And we should really make landfall as soon as possible to let them know where we are. We will pass Whangerei within the hour, but I think we should make for Auckland - we have a place there where we may stay and also leave the ship."

The Mariner nodded. "We will ride to their location overland from there?"

"In a manner of speaking," Legolas smiled at him. "They have new ways of transporting people in this age, my Lord. We will fly, like birds."

"Ah, the eagles?"

"No, my lord. These are machines, made by men."

Earendil raised his eyebrows at the younger Elf, searching his face to see if he was teasing or serious.

"Indeed!" he answered, with a growing smile. "I should like that. I should like that very much."

Sophia doubted that Earendil would like it as much as he thought he would, but decided not to ruin it for him.

A few hours later, they were approaching Waiheke Island, just off the coast of Auckland.

"Will we really leave the ship here?" Sophia asked Earendil anxiously, Liriel translating.

"Of course," he answered in English, switching back to Sindarin. "Do not be concerned, daughter, for I promise you that no one will bother my ship." His eyes twinkled, and Sophia relaxed. There must be some kind of magic spell or something othe stately vessel. She sighed at the thought, realizing that sometime in the past week she had just accepted that she lived in a world where such things were possible. It was easier for Brandon, she realized, as she watched him try to teach the Uruk Hai rock-paper-scissors: he had probably always thought or at least hoped they lived in such a world.

They anchored in a small, aquamarine cove, rimmed with white sand beaches. A cliff rose above the water, and they could see a shining structure at the top. Legolas turned to the travelers. "We keep this lodge for when we need to be in Auckland. It is not very large, but there is room for all of us, and there is a helipad, of course." He slid a sideways glance at Earendil, who was looking about, asking Brandon and Liriel to explain cars to him. "And I didn't think he would be ready for a big city just yet," he said in a low voice to Sophia.

"Wait, you have your own helicopters?" Sophia goggled.

"Of course," Legolas said again, shrugging dismissively, as though everyone had a helicopter. "Let's see to the rooms, and I'll call Elrond."

They used the raft to go into shore, Earendil producing two paddles. Sophia probably could have moved the inflatable without them, but there were a few other boats anchored nearby, and they didn't want to attract any more attention than they already had.

As they made the climb up to the lodge, Sophia and Brandon were speechless. Not because the hill was steep, although it was, but rather because of the splendor of the surroundings. The grounds were perfectly landscaped, with lush, big-leafed plants, sprays of purple, red, and yellow flowers along pebbled paths. There were fountains bubbling peacefully, with metal sculptures of geometric shapes. Sophia spied a graceful marble statue, which she thought might be Aphrodite, turning to look at Eros, tucked away into a niche of manicured hedges. When they arrived at the top of the hill, the building itself was clean and white, with walls of glass that showcased the magnificent views of the little cove. They stepped into a bright and airy room, full of cream-colored furniture, wooden decorations, and weathered red accents, where a woman with chestnut hair in a sleek up-do sat behind a carved countertop.

"Mr. Sindar!" she exclaimed, her perfect red lips stretching into a warm smile as she clicked delicately out from behind her counter. "Welcome back! We haven't seen you here in far too long. And Ms. Silvane. How lovely to see you." If the woman noticed their bedraggled appearance, she hid it well.

"Melanie," Legolas said warmly, kissing the woman on both cheeks. "Wonderful to be back. As you can see, we have a rather large party. I apologize for the lack of advance notice."

"Not a problem," she smiled, escorting Legolas back to her counter. After a few minutes of conferring with her, he returned to the group.

"There's a two bedroom apartment; Brandon and Sophia, one of the rooms has two single beds, and I thought you might like to stay together. Liriel can stay in the other room. I shall take a suite in the main house, and Earendil prefers to stay on his ship."

"And the Uruk Hai?" Sophia asked.

Legolas frowned. "It's not really his kind of place," he allowed, "but there is an outdoor couch on the patio at the apartment. I thought he might be comfortable there."

"That doesn't seem fair," Brandon objected.

"Prefer outside," the Uruk Hai interrupted.

"Good, that's settled," Legolas said quickly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call Elrond. You may either go to your rooms or wait for me here - as you prefer."

Given that there was no luggage to put away and they were not tired, they all decided to wait for Legolas, Liriel restlessly pacing while the others sat.

"What's wrong with her?" Brandon murmured to his sister.

"Hasn't seen her family in about a year," she whispered back. "She's just excited."

Sophia had forgotten how sharp the Elves' hearing was.

"That is not it at all," Liriel called from across the room. "I'm just worried about what Elrond is going to say," she muttered to herself.

"You are worried about my son?" the Mariner asked, and Liriel blushed. "Do not concern yourself, child," Earendil held up his hands. "Perhaps you should enlighten me as to why you are so concerned."

Hesitantly, she told him about the days leading up to their encounter with him, confessing some of their missteps.

"That does not seem consequential," he said, stroking his chin. "Has my son grown so very intemperate?"

"No," Liriel sighed. "Not at all. He is he most judicious and fair-minded elf I have ever known."

"Then what is the cause of your concern?"

Liriel glanced at Sophia and Brandon.

"Ah," Earendil said, "I see. He has grown attached to the mortals."

"Yes, that's part of it," Liriel said softly. "But we also lost their father and grandmother, and Legolas was at fault. Well," she frowned, "not truly at fault. He just thought each in turn was the one mentioned in the prophecy. He tried too hard to prepare them for the battle, and it affected them in ways we did not foresee. We lost one to vanity and greed, and the other to ambition."

"And Elrond no longer trusts him?"

Liriel pursed her lips. "He trusts him in all things but this," she finally said. "And these two are close to his heart in a way the generations before were not. He yelled at Legolas on he phone," she confessed. "I have never heard him yell before."

"I do not know this phone, but yelling, I do know. If he is the Elf that I remember and all that you say, Elrond will give you no true cause for concern."

"I know, my Lord. It's just that I do not like to disappoint him."

"You brought his father back to this world," Earendil said gently, "I suspect that will count for something."

"Elrond will be here in time for dinner," Legolas announced, stepping into the lobby. "In the meantime, we could all use some new clothes. Who is up for a little shopping?"

When "shopping" was explained to him, the Mariner waved them off, noting that he had plenty of clothing on the ship. None of them was brave enough to suggest that he obtain more modern attire.

"Elrond still favors robes, too," Liriel reassured them, "and some of the other older elves, as well. He won't be the only one."

"I stay," the Uruk Hai grunted.

"We'll get you something," Sophia said firmly, and then frowned at him. "We still don't have a name for you." The Uruk Hai shrugged.

Soon, Brandon, Sophia, Legolas, and Liriel were on a ferry, which would take them right into downtown Auckland. There was a slew of such ferries plying the harbor, as well as container ships, tugs, and cruise ships, and Sophia was glad they had not tried to dock Earendil's ship in this hive of activity.

"How much money do you have?" Sophia whispered to Brandon.

"Not much," he admitted. "And there isn't much in our bank account, either."

"You are not to worry about that," Legolas chided them. "We have lines of credit at several of the stores in town."

"We can't let you pay for everything," Sophia declared.

"Why not?" Legolas asked blankly.

"Well." she said, "it just wouldn't be right."

Legolas raised his eyebrows at her. "Look, Sophia," he finally said, "I get that you're really independent, and it speaks well of you. But trust me on this: when you're around for thousands of years, you tend to amass a little wealth. We can afford to buy you some clothes."

"Just how did you amass your wealth?" Brandon asked.

"This and that," Legolas shrugged. "We own a great deal of property and mineral deposits, and Glorfindel also runs a holding company for us. We have a very diversified, global investment portfolio. You are both entitled to a share of the money, actually, but your mother would have nothing to do with us. She called it blood money."

"But it's not," Liriel cut in quickly, frowning at Legolas. "We are very ethical investors, and we give a lot of money away to charities. We support pretty much every environmental cause in the world."

"Wait, we didn't have to live like that?" Brandon demanded. "She _chose_ to live that way - in tiny apartments, moving every six months? We were even on food stamps for awhile there. And there were things she did to get money..."

"It's okay, Brandon," Sophia said, holding her brother's hand. "No matter what, we will never live that way again, right?"

"Right," he whispered, and Legolas could tell this was a promise they had made to each other before. Probably many times.

"I apologize," he said, putting an arm around Brandon's shoulders. "I did not mean to bring up bad memories."

Brandon just shook his head and gave Legolas a sheepish smile. "Let's go splurge," he answered.

They started at the outdoor store, picking up boots, winter coats, and other hiking attire. Legolas must have tried on every pair of sunglasses in the store before choosing a sleek rimless pair, which cost almost a half of the monthly rent Sophia and Brandon would have paid in Los Angeles. With a thoughtful look, Legolas also ordered a score of back country tents, along with camping stoves, sleeping bags, and other gear, to be delivered to the town nearest to Mount Aspiring, where the Elves' settlement was located. Sophia thought the salesman's head was going to explode when he realized the tall, fair-haired man was serious about the order.

"He's going to be able to retire on that commission," Sophia observed.

Next, they went to a department store, with Liriel and Sophia heading off to the ladies' department, and Brandon and Legolas to the mens', with instructions to meet in the main lobby in an hour.

Liriel tried on several dresses, deciding to buy them all, and then made Sophia try on a few, as well. "I don't know why you say you aren't a dress kind of person," Liriel observed, "because they look really good on you. And there are times when a skirt is much more convenient than pants."

"Like when?" Sophia scoffed.

"Oh, when it's hot, or when you're just hanging around. They're comfortable, you know? Besides, Elladan likes dresses," the Elf maiden blushed and smiled at Sophia. "I'd also like to get some for Ela," she added.

"Ela?" Sophia asked, examining herself in the mirror.

"Elanordis. My daughter."

"You have a kid? Seriously? How old is she?"

"A little younger than you are, in Elf years," Liriel responded. "So she generally likes to do her own shopping. But I want to bring her something, anyway. I had some gifts for her on the plane," she explained.

They were so busy picking something out for Liriel's daughter, that neither noticed the large man in the hoodie and sunglasses, watching them from across the store.

"Oh look, Sophie!" Liriel called, holding up soft, deep blue dress. "This would look fantastic on you! You have to try it on."

"Okay, okay," Sophia sighed, holding her hand out for the garment.

Looking in the mirror, she had to admit that Liriel had a good eye. The dress was fitted through the bodice, flaring slightly at the waist and falling in gentle folds to her knees. It had long sleeves and pockets in the skirt, which was Sophia's minimum requirement for all clothing. She was swishing back and forth admiring herself and decided to go show Liriel.

"Oh, that really does suit you," Liriel said when she saw Sophia. "It matches your eyes. You have to get that! I think you should wear it out of the store."

"Will they let me do that?" she asked, stuffing her hands into the pockets.

"Sure," Liriel said. "Just go get your old clothes and we'll take the tag off at the register."

Sophia walked back into the dressing room, closing the door behind her. When she turned around again, she gasped. There was someone crouched in the corner of her dressing room.

"Hey..." she started, and then gulped when she saw who it was.

It was Acharnor, and he did not look well. His hair was stringy, with a few bald patches visible between the strands, his once-handsome face was pitted and scarred and his eyes screwed shut. His hands were covered in oozing blisters.

"Not a word," he rasped, "not a sound."

"Really?" she said to him, planting her hands on her hips. "We're going to do this again?"

His only answer was to rise unsteadily to his feet and lurch toward her, but Sophia stepped easily out of his way. It was then that she noticed the Silmaril, which she had left in her pants pocket, loose on the ground, the Kona box upended next to it. She snatched the stone up off the ground and pressed her back against the mirror, pulling her knife out. The blade glowed a very faint blue. Acharnor made no move toward her again.

"Consider this a warning, Miss Sophia," he said to her, eyes gleaming red. "You and your brother will not be safe, not here or anywhere. You can join us, or you can die. You'll be seeing me again."

He kicked the door open, wood splintering in all directions, and ran back into the store. Sophia remained in place, hastily resheathing her knife when she saw a saleswoman hurrying into the dressing rooms, Liriel close behind her.

"What happened?" The woman said, gaping at the broken door.

"There was a man in my dressing room," Sophia answered. "He was looking through my clothes, and he threatened me."

"Oh my God," the woman squealed. "Are you alright sweetheart? Did he touch you?"

Sophia shook her head, her face flaming red.

"I need to call security right away. Will you be okay here with your friend for a moment?"

Sophia nodded, as Liriel came and hugged her.

"It was Acharnor," she whispered, once the woman had left. "He was trying to take the Silmaril." she flushed an even deeper red. "Please don't tell anyone I left it in here."

"Did he get it?" Liriel asked softly, and Sophia shook her head.

"It was on the floor, and his hands were all burned. Did the stone do that?"

"Yes," Liriel told her softly. "Anyone with impure motives, with a corrupt heart, cannot hold the stones."

Just then, the saleswoman returned with two security guards. They had Sophia sit down while the guards took down notes on what happened, as well as Sophia's description of Acharnor. Before long, the store manager also arrived, with a bottle of water for Sophia.

"Well, Miss," he said in a serious tone, "I just want to reassure you and Ms. Silvane that nothing like this has ever happened in this store before, and we will be working with the police to ensure that it never will again. We will catch this man, I assure you."

"Thank you, sir," Sophia said, looking at her feet.

"And I want you to keep that dress, as our gift to you, for the ordeal you have experienced here today. We regret this incident terribly. I will personally escort you the next time you wish to shop at Smith and Caughey's."

"Oh, that's really not necessary," she stammered, feeling guilty that she had not told them she knew her assailant, and that she had left a priceless gem in the dressing room. "We're just visiting."

"Nonsense," the mustachioed man said. "It is the least we can do, whenever you visit us again. Let us package up your old clothes for you, and you can go to your hotel and rest."

Liriel and Sophia followed the man out to the register, where the saleswoman had a bag ready.

"Now you just call me if you need anything else," she said, handing Sophia back her package. along with her card.

"You take care, Miss Dunnidan," the Manager said, shaking her hand warmly. "Did you know, by the way, that there's a city on South Island called Dunidan? You should certainly try to visit during your stay in New Zealand."

They were, of course, late arriving at the rendezvous point, and Legolas and Brandon were waiting for them.

"Ha!" Brandon called out as they approached, "I bet you would be 43 minutes late; Legolas bet 20. You're 39 minutes late, so I win. But I guess it was worth it - that's a really nice dress, Soph. I've never seen you in a dress before - you look good."

"What's wrong?" Legolas interrupted, staring at Sophia's pale face.

"Acharnor. He was here."

"Where?" Legolas demanded.

"In her dressing room," Liriel responded. "He tried to take the Silmaril."

"I had to give a statement to the security guards. That's what took so long," Sophia said pointedly to Brandon, who looked properly chastened.

"Are you okay?" he asked his sister anxiously, looking her up and down.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, "but Archie isn't. The Silmaril gave him third degree burns all over his hands."

"How did he know where to find us?" Brandon asked Legolas, when he rejoined them.

"I don't know," he answered, lips pressed together and brows low over his eyes. "He shouldn't even be able to get this close to Te Waipanamou, with all the protections on the place. Let's get out of here."

They made their way back to the ferry, Legolas and Liriel both silent and scanning the city crowds. Even on the ferry, they would not allow the siblings to go anywhere alone. It was a subdued party that made its way back up to the cliffside lodge.

Sophia and Brandon found the Uruk Hai out on the patio, lying in the sun, and they sat down to show him the trousers and shirts they had bought for him, as well as a pair of hiking boots and sunglasses to replace the ones he had lost in the airplane.

"Uruk Hai not wear shoes," he grunted. "Feet like leather," he held up a gnarled foot, showing them the thickly calloused skin.

"Do you like the shirts?" Sophia asked him, holding up a green, light-weight hoodie with zipper pockets on the chest and the sleeves. The Uruk Hai nodded and gave them his best ghastly smile.

"I look good," he commented, holding the shirt up against his torso. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Brandon said quietly.

"Something happen," the Uruk Hai observed, peering at them.

"We saw Acharnor," Sophia told him

The Uruk Hai was silent, watching them. "Bad sign," he observed.

"What do you mean?" Sophia asked.

"He should not be here. Bad sign. Defenses not holding."

The siblings looked at each other. "We should tell Legolas," Brandon said softly.

"He know," the Uruk Hai grunted. "Everything changing."

Just then, they heard the whup whup whup of an approaching helicopter and they all looked up, shading their eyes against the sun.

"Grandfather is here," Brandon observed, and he smiled at Sophia, who smiled back. They turned to run into the front lobby.

"Come on!" Sophia called out to the Uruk Hai, who had not moved.

"I stay here," he said quietly.

"Nonsense," she frowned. "You're one of us now."

But the Uruk Hai shook his head stubbornly. "Later," he grunted, and Sophia could tell he would not budge.

"Okay, later," she agreed, waving at him before running out the door.

Sophia and Brandon hurried toward the helipad, waiting for the sleek black machines to land. They saw a man leap from the pilot's seat in the cabin, and soon found themselves laughing, crying, and folded into their grandfather's embrace.

"Sophia, Brandon," he murmured, as he held them. "Oh, I've missed you so much." He pushed them back a bit so he could see them. "Look at you!" he exclaimed. "Brandon, you've grown so tall! Almost as tall as I am now. And Sophia, you've become a beautiful young woman, just as I always said you would." He pulled them back into his arms, and the three of them just stood there, Elrond dropping all of elven dignity to rock his descendants back and forth in his arms, kissing them both on the cheek.

"We have so much to tell you, Grandfather!" Brandon exclaimed, as Elrond released them slightly from his grip.

"And you have so much to tell us, apparently," Sophia said, arching an eyebrow at him.

"But there's someone here you need to see!" Brandon exclaimed. "Did Legolas tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Elrond frowned, as he put an arm around each of his grandchildren and they walked toward the lodge. "Wait, forgive me," he said, turning his head. "I should introduce you to my son, Elladan. You know his brother, Elrohir."

"Elrohir?" Sophia asked. "Oh, Elroy," she quickly guessed, looking at Elladan, and Elrond nodded.

"Hello," Brandon said to Elladan. "I guess you and Elroy, um, Elrohir, are twins, then?"

"Yup," Elladan said with a broad smile. "I've heard so much about you both. So, so much. Sometimes, it's all I hear about."

"Elladan," his father chided.

"Well, we've heard a lot about you, too," Sophia pointed out.

"Lies. It's all lies," Elladan quipped. "You can't believe a thing Legolas says."

"How about Liriel?" Sophia snickered.

"Even worse," Elladan declared. "Is she around?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Right inside," Brandon reassured him.

But Liriel did not wait for her husband to come to her; she came barreling out of the lobby and didn't stop until she crashed right into Elladan. He picked her up in his arms and swung her around, kissing her soundly on the mouth.

Sophia looked away, embarrassed that she was intruding on what seemed like a private moment, but then she noticed that Elrond was watching the reunion with an affectionate smile.

"Now," he said, not looking away from the passionate embrace, "where is Legolas? And did you say there is someone else here, too?"

"Yes," Brandon answered. "It's..."

But before he could finish his sentence, Legolas and Earendil emerged from the lobby, walking toward them, and Elrond turned to look. His arms fell to his sides and he froze, staring at the two elves coming across the lawn.

"Father," he whispered.

Elrond stared, unmoving, at the father he had not seen in thousands of years.

Earendil crossed the lawn to his son and stood before him. The two elves hesitated for a moment, watching each other, but then suddenly embraced. Sophia looked down hastily, wiping at her eyes.

Earendil stood back, his hands on Elrond's upper arms.

"You look so much like your mother," he said softly. "I had forgotten."

"Is she..." Elrond started, his eyes alight with longing. "Is she with you?"

Earendil looked at his son, his smile fading. "In a manner of speaking, but I fear she may be lost to us in elven form."

Elrond raised a single eyebrow, and Earnedil led him to the cliff's edge.

"Vingilote," Elrond whispered, when he saw his father's ship moored below.

"Yes," Earendil murmured, "And she is there, too. Your mother," he added, pointing at the large white bird, which was perched on the cabin of the boat, its head tucked under one wing. Elrond was silent, looking intently at the bird, which suddenly raised its head, as though sensing their regard, and then launched into the air.

"Do you know what's going on?" Sophia muttered to Brandon.

"I think so," he said, a small, self-satisfied smile on his face.

Sophia glared at him, crossing her arms.

"Well?" she demanded.

"There's a story that Earendil's wife, Elrond's mother, threw herself into the sea to keep the Silmarils from being captured. The Valar took pity on her and turned her into a bird. A big, white, seabird."

"What?" Sophia cried. "How long have you known this?" she asked him furiously, gesturing at the bird, which was circling them now. Elrond's gaze remained fixated on the bird, and Earendil was watching Elrond.

"I've suspected it all along," Brandon admitted, "but wasn't sure until now. I didn't want to ask Earendil. He wasn't saying anything about it, and I thought it might be a sensitive topic that his wife seemed to be stuck in bird form."

"Oh," Sophia said, somewhat mollified. "Still, you could have told me about it."

Brandon glanced at her. "And how was I supposed to do that? You were always with Earendil."

"I'm surprised you even noticed, since you were so busy hanging out with Legolas."

They stood next to each other, both breathing hard. Sophia's hands were clenched into fists.

"It's kind of nice to have a family, isn't it?" Brandon finally said quietly, as they watched Earendil put an arm around Elrond's shoulders, Elladan and Liriel close on his other side. They all watched the bird continue to circle.

Before she could answer, Elrond called to them.

"Children, could you lend us a hand?"

"Us?" Sophia responded.

"Yes, I think we need you to unshield the Silmarils."

Sophia supposed she should not be surprised that Elrond could sense the presence of the stones.

"I do not think that is wise," Legolas said quickly, to Elrond's raised eyebrow. "Acharnor attacked Sophia when we were downtown. It appears we are no longer protected on North Island, and we don't know what the stones might summon here. Perhaps we should wait until we are in Te Waiponamu."

Elrond nodded slightly, pursing his lips. "We could lose her," he noted, looking now at his father.

Earendil nodded. "Yes," he agreed quietly.

"Well, we can't let that happen," Sophia declared, stepping forward as she took the Kona box from her pocket and promptly opened it. She placed the shimmering blue gem in her hand and held it out. Brandon came to her side, taking the firestone out, as well. Sophia reached out for his other hand, and the siblings twined their arms together.

The stone on Earendil's chest began to shine with a nearly blinding white light, and he sighed aloud. "I had forgotten how it felt to have all three," he murmured, closing his eyes as the gems' force washed through his mind. Then he frowned slightly. "They have changed," he noted.

"I thought that might be the case," Legolas agreed. "They were not elemental before?"

"No," Earendil agreed. "Though if anything, they have become more powerful for it. But it is also who holds them - they respond to these mortals differently."

"Look," Elrond suddenly exclaimed. The bird was circling now in downward arcs, coming closer and closer, its great, snowy wings sweeping slowly through the air. Finally, the bird landed gently on the ground in front of Sophia and Brandon. They held their breath as the animal watched them, its head cocking from side to side.

"Try to reach out to her with your mind, Sophie," Elrond said softly. "You too, Brandon."

Sophia bit her lip, wondering what she should think at the bird. She finally settled on a direct approach.

_Grandmother_, she thought as hard as she could, _I am Sophia, your kin. Won't you come back to us, as a woman? Uh, an Elf, I guess? With two legs, like mine? Won't you do that now for us? Don't you want to see your son and your husband again? Look, they are right here, waiting for you. They miss you so much._

She could have sworn the bird looked then right at Elrond and Earendil, who stood still, watching. Then the bird hopped closer.

"Don't let her take the stone," Earendil warned softly, Elrond quickly translating. "It's yours she wants, Sophie." The bird cawed in annoyance as Sophia and Brandon both hastily closed their hands over the Silmarils.

_Mine_, a rough voice ripped through Sophia's mind. _Mine_! It roared again, and Sophia pressed her hands to her temples.

_Then come and take it - with your hands_, Sophia thought back at the bird. _I will only give it to you if you can take it with human hands_.

_Elven hands_, she corrected herself.

Sophia held her breath as the bird came even closer, turning a fierce gaze on her. Sophia slowly held her fist out, the shifting blue light streaming through her fingers. The bird suddenly lunged, its sharp beak slicing Sophia's hand just above the knuckes, but Sophia barely even flinched.

_With your hands_, she chided the bird sternly.

Suddenly, the outline of the majestic bird's form seemed to blur, and it raised its wings, which trembled. The bird's head dipped down, beak open, and it fell to the ground, shaking. Brandon gasped as the bird's form began pulsating outward, the feathers on its head darkening and lengthening. An avian scream wrenched from its throat, suddenly becoming softer and higher pitched, tapering off into a whimper. And suddenly, there was a woman - an elven woman - curled up in a ball on the ground. She had long, tangled dark hair and was completely naked.

Blushing, Brandon looked away.

"Well done," Legolas said quietly, gliding up to Sophia. He ripped a strip off his shirt and wrapped it around her hand.

Earendil was on his knees next to his wife.

"Elwing," he said gently, "My love?"

She continued to shake, a soft moan emanating from the back of her throat.

"Ea..Earendil?" She finally said, raising unfocused eyes in his direction.

Elwing had the same smooth skin as her husband, but where he was alabaster white, she was a deep, warm brown, her mahogany eyes shot through with flecks of gold. Her plush lips were ruby red, and nearly glowed against her dusky skin.

"She looks like Melian," Sophia whispered.

"Her grandmother," Brandon agreed.

"It's going to take some getting used to," Sophia sighed. "They all look the same age, and like a bunch of supermodels. I feel like some kind of garden gnome next to all these people."

"Sophia!" Elrond suddenly shouted. "Look out!" In a blur, he pulled out a knife and hurled it just past Sophia's shoulder, so close to her she could hear it whistling through the air.

The blade thunked into something solid, and there was a loud grunt. Sophia spun around with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"No!" she screamed, when she saw the Uruk Hai, sinking to the ground. She ran to his side.

"Sophia!" Elrond yelled. "Stay back! He's dangerous!"

"No, he's not!" she yelled back through her tears, as she reached the wounded creature and knelt next to him. The knife was protruding from his chest. Her grandfather had excellent aim, as always.

The Uruk Hai looked up at her, his eyes glazed with pain. "Wanted to see the stones again," it rasped. "Stupid."

"No, it wasn't stupid," she answered, picking up his hand. "The stones saved you. Of course they called to you."

She realized Brandon was right next to her and could dimly hear Legolas and Liriel arguing with Elrond and Elladan.

"It is an abomination!" Elrond warned. "Nothing more! Never anything more!"

"How could you take the side of an Orc, Liriel?" Elladan demanded angrily.

"You must heal him," Legolas insisted. "You don't understand!"

"No cry," the Uruk Hai wheezed at Sophia. "I had good life."

"No, no you didn't," Sophia answered him. "You had a terrible life. You were only starting to have a good life. So you can't die. You can't! You're just starting!"

The Uruk Hai closed his eyes. "Already started," he said, "now finished."

"No!" Sophia wailed.

"Legolas is right, son," they heard Earendil say. "I have seen it before. He was well on his way to his true form."

"That is impossible," Elrond insisted.

Sophia looked up at him with wet eyes. "You don't understand! He saved our lives!" she cried out.

"No, you don't understand," Elladan cut in. "They are a dark species, created only for evil purposes. That's it."

"Look at him," Brandon commanded, rising to his feet. "Look at his face and ask yourself if that is the face of an Uruk Hai."

Elladan and Elrond now looked at the prone creature, whose breathing was reduced to ragged gasps. They both appeared stunned by what they saw: the Uruk Hai's skin was no longer grey and pitted, but smooth and tanned. The heavy ridge of bone over his eyes was receding, and there was dark hair lightly covering his skull. He still looked like an Orc, but not quite like any Orc any of them - except for Earendil and Elwing - had ever seen.

"My son," Elwing said, in a rough voice. "You must use your gifts and heal him, for the metamorphosis has begun."

"I don't understand," Elrond muttered.

"I will explain," Earendil said gently, "but you must hurry. His life force is nearly spent, and if you hesitate any longer, it will be too late."

"He is a valuable source of intelligence about our enemies, my Lord," Legolas said urgently. "Please."

But it was Sophia's tear-stained face that finally moved Elrond to act, and he strode across the lawn to her side, staring down at the dying Uruk Hai. Finally, he knelt next to the creature and put his hands on its chest, intoning some ancient words. Sophia placed her own hands over his, and a slight smile tugged at his lips

"Pull out the dagger now, granddaughter," he said, pausing after a few moments.

Sophia gulped, and then nodded and grabbed the hilt, slowly easing the blade out of the Uruk Hai's chest. Sophia then gently placed the stone on the wound, the blue light flaring as it made contact with the Uruk Hai's blood. The Uruk Hai's eyes snapped open, and he sucked in a mighty breath, as Elrond continued to chant. A soft glow surrounded the three of them.

As the light began to fade, Elrond bowed his head, and the Uruk Hai again closed his eyes.

"Thank you for healing him," Sophia whispered.

"It was as much your doing as mine, granddaughter," Elrond said softly, gazing at the unconscious Uruk Hai. "You may put the stone away now," he said gently, and she picked it up slowly, wiping it absently on her dress before replacing it in the box. She glanced anxiously at the Uruk Hai, and then stared. He had changed again: she could see cheekbones now, and his face was thinner. His ears were still pointed, but much smaller, and he had more hair.

"What's happening to him?" She whispered.

"I know not," Elrond responded, "but I believe my father may know. Does your...friend have a name?"

Sophia frowned. "He doesn't. He said only the Uruk Hai leaders had names. Can you imagine that? Not having a name?"

Elrond nodded wearily. "I am sure when you saw them on the mountain, you noticed that they are somewhat like bees in a hive, blindly following the wishes of their ruler. I am not surprised they have no identity beyond their foul deeds." He spit the words out as though they tasted bad in his mouth.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Sophia asked him. "I mean, I can tell there's more to it than just fighting against them."

Elrond looked away. "Another time," he responded quietly.

Earendil and Elwing were approaching, Elwing now wearing one of Earendil's outer robes. They looked closely at the still unconscious Uruk Hai on the ground.

"He is changing faster," the Mariner noted. "I do not believe he will become what I thought, though."

"You have seen this before?" Elrond said, rising slowly to his feet. Elwing came to his side to help him, and remained with her arms around her son. Elrond kissed the top of her head.

"Yes," Earendil responded, with Elwing nodding along. "Melkor cannot truly create new life, only corrupt what already exists. The first Orcs were Elves who willingly joined his cause, and as he gave them new powers, their form changed until they were outwardly as ugly as their souls within."

"What about his armies, then?" Legolas asked as he approached. "They seemed endless - there were more of them than there were elves."

Earendil nodded. "Indeed. He did capture more elves and tortured them, and they changed, as well. But he began experimenting with other races. He found men particularly well-suited to his needs."

"Is he a man?" Brandon asked, looking closely at the Uruk Hai.

"I believe he is an Elf," Earendil said, frowning, "or he was, at any rate. I am not sure what he will be now. I have not seen an Elf recover before."

"But you have seen this happen?" Elrond asked again.

"Yes," his mother said softly. "When Melkor stole the Silmarils, he placed them in a crown, since he could not be in direct contact with the stones without burning away his skin. But the stones awoke consciousness in his minions. With the awakening, the nature of their souls dictated whether they remained evil, in which case, they kept the form Melkor had given them."

"And if the nature of their souls was good?" Elrond asked. "What did they become?"

"We only saw men change," Earendil explained, "and they did not return to what they were before; they were no longer men, but something different, something new. Although they were smaller than men, they looked very much alike, retaining only the pointed ears and most unfortunately the large feet of an Orc. Orcs have no gender, but when they changed, some reverted to being women, as well. So they were capable of reproducing after the transformation. This new species was actually quite wonderful - the halflings were creatures of joy and light, and unusually resistant to corruption. Thousands changed before Melkor realized what was happening and shielded the stones. He killed many of them, but some escaped. I do not know what became of them."

Legolas and Elrond looked at each other in astonishment.

"Halflings," Legolas finally said. "Well. That explains a lot."

"Hobbits?" Brandon said incredulously. "Hobbits are recovering Orcs?"

"Apparently," Elrond said dryly.

"Grandmother," Sophia said to Elwing, suddenly shy in front of her beautiful forebear. "I promised you this." Elrond translated as she held the kona wood box out on her palm.

Elwing smiled and closed Sophia's hand over the box.

"You keep it, dear. You are the very best guardian I can imagine. Besides," and now she frowned, noticing the crude bandage on Sophia's hand, "I am not fully sentient in my other form. I apologize that I hurt you."

Sophia shrugged. "No biggie."

"She wants me to heal you, nonetheless," Elrond noted. "Why don't we go do that inside and have some dinner? We may as well stay the night here and give your Uruk Hai a chance to recover before we move him."

"Is it safe for us to be here?" Legolas asked quietly, though it was clearly only phrased as a question out of respect.

"I believe we can put a few measures in place to ensure our safety," Elrond responded evenly, then translating for his parents, who smiled broadly.

"Fine, fine," Legolas grumbled under his breath, as Elrond, Earendil, and Elwing strode toward the hotel arm in arm. "Must be something the whippersnappers wouldn't understand."

"Yeah, now you know how it feels," Sophia observed, and Legolas rolled his eyes.

"What are we going to do with the Uruk Hai?" Brandon broke in. "We can't just leave an unconscious Orc lying on the lawn."

"Well, Sophia could just stay here with him, and then people will think they are both lawn ornaments," Elladan observed.

"Hey!" Sophia said. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to eavesdrop?"

"No," Elladan smiled at her, dropping his smile with an "oof" when Liriel elbowed him in the gut.

"Did I miss something?" Legolas inquired, a gleam in his eyes.

"No," Elladan said, rubbing his rib cage. "It's just that Sophia thinks she looks like a garden gnome." He dodged another elbow from his wife.

"A what?" Legolas snorted, crossing his arms and looking like he was anticipating a good joke.

"A statue of a small, angry creature, sort of like a dwarf with rosy cheeks."

"You're not that short," Legolas observed, and Sophia smacked him hard on the arm.

"Ow!" he scowled at her mockingly.

"Actually, I think garden gnomes are small, happy creatures kind of like dwarves," Brandon added helpfully.

"Hey!" his sister rounded on him. "Who's side are you on, anyway? Just for that, you can figure out how to get the Uruk Hai inside." Sophia turned her nose up into the air and flounced away to the lobby.

"Good luck," Liriel sang out as she hurried after Sophia.

"Oh, nice going, Legolas," Elladan protested, "I haven't seen my wife in a year, and you got her mad at me in like five minutes."

"Me? You're the one who was talking about garden gnomes!"

Elladan chuckled. "Yeah, that was me, wasn't it?"

Brandon laughed with them, but then rubbed the back of his neck uneasily.

"What?" Legolas prompted.

"We should probably apologize. Sophia's actually kind of sensitive about the way she looks."

The two elves looked at the young man in disbelief. "Are you serious?" Elladan demanded. "She could be a movie star. Or commercials, at least. She actually reminds me of my sister."

"Yeah," Brandon responded. "I've tried to tell her like a million times, but she doesn't believe me. Thinks I'm biased. I'm not sure where it comes from - she's not exactly lacking in self confidence."

"No kidding," Legolas said, rubbing the sore spot on his arm.

"I think just some bad experiences at school, you know? Well, no, I don't suppose you would know. But being different when you're a teenager where we grew up? Well, kids can be cruel, but kids in Los Angeles can be really cruel. Neither of us fit in, but I think it bothered her more than it bothered me. And our mother wasn't very...motherly when it came to Sophia, which didn't help." Brandon sighed. "So, anyway, how about something much easier: how are we going to get this guy inside?"

In the end, it took all three of them to move the Uruk Hai; the elves carrying him and Brandon scouting the route. Eventually, they were able to get him to the patio outside the apartment, dumping him unceremoniously on the lounge. Legolas immediately disappeared inside the apartment and came out with three bottles.

"Beer?" Brandon asked. "I, um, don't really drink."

Legolas shook his head. "It's actually elven wine. We keep some here and they stock the rooms with it when we're here. I think you'll like it - it does not have alcohol in it, actually, just some herbs. But they produce...effects."

"Can it be addictive?" Brandon asked nervously.

Elladan and Legolas exchanged looks. "Not that I've ever heard of," Elladan replied easily. "I've never known an elf to be an alcoholic. Never."

Both elves took a swig from their bottles, sighing and leaning back in their chairs, and Brandon finally followed suit.

"Oh," he said in surprise, immediately feeling the knots in his shoulders unwind. "That's really good. That's like a Silmaril in a bottle."

The elves nodded happily, and the three relaxed, watching the sun go down and hoping the Uruk Hai would wake up before dinner.


	13. Chapter 13

_**an: starlight, canon man, Emma gilthoniel - wow, thanks so much for the comments! Shire Rose -really helpful feedback, and we've tried to fix the summary. We wanted the elves to make an effort to move with the times, which is why their speaking style is more vernacular. Earendil, not so much... Long chapter ahoy!**_

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Heavy Legacies**

The Uruk Hai did wake up before dinner, but was not in a very sociable mood.

"You should come with us to get something to eat," Brandon urged the creature, who was sitting up, rubbing his temples.

"No chance," it grunted. "I not eat with those who kill me."

"It was an accident," Brandon explained, holding his hands out, palms up.

"Not accident," the Uruk Hai snorted. "Elf have very good aim."

"And yet here you are," Legolas commented, crossing his arms. Elladan had gone uncharacteristically quiet.

The Uruk Hai looked at Elladan, who met his gaze without expression.

"Easier for everyone if I stay here," the Uruk Hai muttered. Legolas raised his eyebrows.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "in that case, I'll bring you some food from inside," he got up quickly and went into the apartment before the Uruk Hai could say anything else. An uncomfortable silence lingered behind him.

"So, um," Brandon started, trying to break the tension, "they used the Silmaril to heal you. It changed you some more."

The Uruk Hai nodded. "I feel it."

The patio descended into silence again.

"Here you go," Legolas announced, placing bread, fruit, and cheese on the round patio table, along with another bottle of elven wine.

"You're not giving him that," Elladan said flatly.

"Yes, I am," Legolas answered, meeting Elladan's gaze evenly. "It will help with his healing."

Elladan rose suddenly to his feet and stalked off the patio, grumbling something about looking for Liriel. The Uruk Hai watched him go.

"What was that all about?" Brandon demanded angrily. "He has no cause for that."

"Actually, I'm afraid he does," Legolas sighed. The Uruk Hai sat unmoving, as impassive as a stone.

"An unfortunate side effect of immortality is that we have very long memories. When Elladan was still a child, a band of Orcs captured his mother. She was able to escape, but never fully recovered from her ordeal. When she finally couldn't bear her memories anymore, she went to Valinor, leaving her husband and young children behind."

"Oh," Brandon said quietly, looking at his hands.

"Bad history," the Uruk Hai rumbled. "Stone won't change blood on my hands."

"Yes, it can," Brandon said softly. "If you deserved what was done to you, you would not be changing now. What you do deserve is a second chance."

The Uruk Hai's mouth twisted, and for the first time, it was recognizably a smile.

"You go. Have dinner. I will be fine," he said, and Brandon nodded, smiling back at him.

"Shall we?" Brandon said to Legolas, jumping to his feet. "I'm starving."

Meanwhile, Sophia sat on a leather couch in the lobby, her head on Elrond's shoulder. The three elder elves were speaking quietly, and Sophia leaned over to Liriel.

"What are they talking about?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Liriel answered. "They're speaking Quenyan and I don't know it."

Sophia looked at her in surprise.

"It's an ancient tongue," Liriel explained. "No one has really used it as a spoken language in, like, 10,000 years."

Sophia's eyes grew wide.

"Legolas might be able to a read and speak it a little, since he grew up in a royal house, but my parents were both just foot soldiers. They didn't teach children like us the courtly arts."

"So, Legolas is really a prince?" Sophia whispered.

"Yes," Liriel smiled. "Well, he was, but those distinctions aren't of much use these days, and we don't make a big deal out of it. He only brings it up when he's trying to get out of washing dishes or something."

"Seriously?" Sophia said suspiciously.

"I wish I were kidding," Liriel laughed, "but I'm serious. So don't let him wriggle out of anything by claiming he's royalty."

"Good to know," Sophia chuckled. "What about Elrond?"

"Well, that's a little different," Liriel allowed. "He and Glorfindel are the leaders of all the elves still in Middle Earth. Glorfindel handles the business, and Elrond is in charge of the politics."

"There are elf politics?"

Liriel rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

"How does Acharnor fit in to all of this? I noticed you and he have the same last name," Sophia observed, watching Liriel carefully.

"Yes," she sighed. "We are both Silvan elves from Mirkwood, though he's much older than I am. He is something of a political rival to Elrond, but Glorfindel's been saying for about 100 years that he thinks Acharnor has taken up with Melkor. Looks like he was right."

"He didn't look good," Sophia said, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"His skin was a funny color, almost gray, and very rough looking. His hair was falling out, and his eyes were red."

"Whom are you speaking of, granddaughter?" Sophia jumped when she realized the others had stopped talking and were listening to her conversation.

"Oh, um, I was talking about Acharnor. When we saw him in the store - he looked terrible. And the Silmaril burned his hands."

Elrond pursed his lips, translating for his parents, who did not seem surprised.

"Becoming Orc," Earendil said in English, clearly proud to be able to find the right words in this new tongue.

Sophia nodded. "That makes sense, based on what you told us about the Uruk Hai."

"Braichon," Earendil said.

"What?" Sophia asked, puzzled.

"His name. Braichon."

"Oh," Sophia exclaimed. "You got him to tell you his name? He claimed only their leaders had names! I knew that couldn't be right."

Earendil said something to Elrond.

"The Uruk Hai spoke the truth, but Earendil has given him a name. It means "Wild Brother" in Sindarin," Elrond explained, shooting his father a slightly annoyed look.

"Braichon. I like it," Sophia declared. "It's perfect."

"What is?" Elladan asked, strolling into the lobby.

"Nothing," Liriel said quickly, rising to embrace her husband. "Are Legolas and Brandon joining us, too?"

"They'll be here in a minute, after they finish taking care of their pet Orc," he grumped.

Liriel shushed him and led him away, telling the others she and Elladan would meet them in the dining room.

Soon, they were all sitting down to dinner together in a private room. Legolas was trying out his Quenyan with Earendil and Elwing, much to their delight, and Elrond was quizzing Brandon on his training regimen. Liriel was telling Elladan about their recent adventures, and Sophia was sitting back, watching them all, a small smile on her face.

"You're looking very pensive," Sophia started when she realized Elladan was now speaking to her.

"Oh, ah," Sophia cleared her throat, blushing. "It's just...I was looking at everyone and realizing this is my family. Well, I guess not Legolas, but he might as well be. Brandon and I went from only having each other and really nothing else to having all of this in the space of just days. It's...weird. Great, but weird."

Elladan smiled, and stroked her cheek with his finger, which deepened her blush. "I know what you mean. My sister has been gone for more than 2,000 years, but sitting here with you is almost like having her back. I can't believe how much you look like her."

"Me?" Sophia snorted. "I don't think so. I mean, I don't know what she really looked like, but if it's anything like Liv Tyler, you're nuts."

Elladan pulled a large locket out from under his shirt and popped it open, holding it up to Sophia. "Liv Tyler is maybe prettier than Arwen was, but Arwen was far more beautiful." He held out the locket. "It's hard to explain, but you can see for yourself."

Sophia leaned forward to examine the tiny painting. "It's nice of you to say so, Elladan, but there's no way I look like that."

She looked up into his eyes to see he was deadly serious.

"You look exactly like her," he insisted softly. "Please don't keep denying it. It gives me great pleasure to see my dear sister in your face." He smiled and kissed Sophia gently on the cheek, looking up when Elrond asked what they were discussing.

"I was just telling Sophia a little about Arwen," he explained. Elladan noticed the pleased look on Sophia's face as she ducked her head, and glanced over at Brandon, who was smiling at him. He gave the boy a broad wink, and Brandon raised his glass.

After the food was cleared, Elladan brought out a guitar and began to play, everyone singing and clapping along happily. This was apparently not unusual for this group, for the hotel staff immediately cleared a space in the middle of the room.

"Who will dance for us?" Elrond called out.

"I believe Brandon likes to dance," Legolas responded, laughing as Brandon froze, a horrified look on his face.

"Me?" Brandon squeaked.

"Yes, if I recall correctly, you were dancing on the plane? Before we crashed?"

Brandon turned bright red, and Earendil roared with laughter, rising to his feet and holding his hand out to his wife. She demurred, however, telling him that she was still not quite steady on her feet. She pushed Liriel gently on the shoulder, and Liriel laughed, rising to join Earendil.

"Come, Sophie," Legolas stood in front of her, holding out his hand.

"Oh, no, no no," Sophia shook her head hastily. "I don't dance. Really."

"If you can fight, you can dance," he insisted, eyes sparkling.

"No. Really," she shook her head firmly, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, spinning her out into the room.

"You weren't kidding!" Legolas laughed. "You really can't dance! Didn't you ever learn at school?"

"Never," Sophia glowered at him. "I wouldn't have been caught dead at a school dance."

"Well, look, pretend we're dueling - just move your feet around, and follow me."

Sophia concentrated, biting her lower lip.

"Good, that's good," Legolas encouraged her. "Now look up, and just relax. It's actually supposed to be an enjoyable activity."

Legolas started a long story, which involved Elrohir and Elladan stealing their father's favorite horse, and before long, he had Sophia laughing. She forgot to be nervous about where her feet were and how she looked and let Legolas guide her around the floor. She was so engrossed in the story that she did not notice Elrond staring at her intently, leaning forward in his seat.

"My son," Elwing said gently in Quenyan. "If I am not mistaken, she is a woman grown, in human reckoning. You need not be so protective."

Elrond smiled tightly back at his mother. "There is a history there," he responded. "An unfortunate turn of events between Legolas and her grandmother."

"Perhaps I am misreading the connection between them. Is the child of his line?" His mother inquired.

"No, no, it is not that," he reassured her. "But he showed poor judgment. He allowed Sophia's grandmother to become infatuated, and when he spurned her advances, she became quite...difficult."

"It does not sound to me as though the grandson of Oropher was at fault."

"He should have been more careful."

"Earendil tells me he is the walker mentioned in the prophecy."

"Indeed."

"Well, he would hardly be the first Elf to misinterpret a prophecy. Tricky things, prophecies."

Elrond said nothing, finally jumping to his feet and cutting in on Legolas to dance with Sophia.

Earendil came back to his seat and gestured for Legolas to take the guitar so Elladan could dance with Liriel.

"You, too," he said to Brandon in English, making a shooing motion with his hands.

"Sing with me?" he asked his wife, who smiled and joined in, Legolas raising his voice in song, as well.

Soon, they all grew tired and sat again at the table, sipping from their drinks. Legolas continued to pick gently at the strings, playing a quiet melody as the conversations ebbed and flowed around him.

"You play well, my child," Elwing said, leaning back against the cushions.

"I thank you, my lady," he replied, giving her a quick smile.

"My son is hard on you," she observed.

"No less than I deserve," he did not look up this time.

"You have never found your bonded mate," Elwing stated placidly. "You have waited a long time, have you not?"

Legolas twanged a discordant sound, his fingers stilling.

"I..." Legolas stared at Elwing, his mouth open in surprise, but he quickly snapped it shut and forced another smile. "Do not be concerned for my sake, my lady. I have not wanted for company. And now there is no time for such pursuits, I'm afraid. We will all be focused on preparing for the war. Indeed, I should rest while I can, so if you will excuse me," Legolas finished abruptly, before Elwing could say anything else, heading swiftly for the door.

"What did you say to send him flying from the room, dearest?" Earendil asked, placing his hand gently over hers.

"I merely asked him about the state of his heart," she noted.

"Ah, you were hinting about the girl?" Elwing nodded. "Your vision is as true as always, but I don't think he's quite ready to accept it," Earendil told her, chuckling. "And I can assure you Sophia is not. Give them time, beloved."

Elwing looked at him sadly, placing her hand along his jawline. "They do not have time," she said softly.

"Have faith, love. There will be nothing but time when it is all over. I am certain of that. But I take your point. We, too, should make the most of this respite. Shall we retire to the ship?" He murmured in her ear, and she nodded happily.

"Good night," Earendil said in English to the group, as Elwing rose and embraced Elrond, gently touching his face and kissing him and then embracing Elladan, as well, before leaving the room, her arm around her husband's waist.

"We are going to turn in, too," Elladan said, rising hand-in-hand with Liriel.

"Come," Elrond said to Sophia and Brandon, "let me see you to your room."

They walked out into the soft night air, slowly making their way in silence toward the apartments. Brandon cleared his throat. "Why didn't you come for us?" he finally blurted out. Sophia looked at her brother in surprise. She was usually the one to ask uncomfortable questions and make blunt demands.

Elrond stopped short and looked at Brandon, drawing in a deep breath. "Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to take you back," he started, "but we could not find you."

Sophia snorted. "You have your own helicopters and magic healing powers, and you couldn't track down one crazy lady? Seriously?"

"It's the ring," Elrond sighed. "When Melian gave it to you, she also put a boundary on top of it, and altogether it was a powerful concealment. She did not intend for it to hide you from us, too, but by the time we realized what had happened, you were gone and so was Melian."

"Where is she, anyway?" Brandon asked. "Is she with you? She said she would meet us in New Zealand."

Elrond raised one elegant eyebrow, almost to his hairline. "Yes, Legolas told me you had seen her, but she has not arrived here yet." He raised his hands at their dismayed looks. "You should not worry at all. I am certain she is fine. But no. I have not seen her since your mother took you. At the time, I thought perhaps it would be for the best, that you would be better off with your mother for awhile."

"Do you have any idea how hard our life with her was?" Sophia said quietly, slipping her hand into Brandon's.

There was a silence that seemed to swallow all the sound around them.

"I am so sorry," Elrond finally said.

"We missed you," Brandon told him, eyes fixed on the ground. "But the important thing is that we're together now." He exhaled noisily.

Elrond swept the siblings into his arms. "We must never be parted from each other again," he whispered, but even as he said it, his expression suddenly grew troubled.

"What?" Brandon said. "What is it? Do you see something?"

Elrond smiled at him. "It is nothing," he lied, putting an arm around each of them. "You should get some sleep. We will fly to the sanctuary near Mount Aspiring at dawn."

When they returned to the apartment, Sophia and Brandon said goodnight to their erstwhile grandfather, and then Sophia raced straight for the patio. She wanted to tell the Uruk Hai right away about his name, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Where do you think he went?" she asked her brother, chewing her lower lip.

Brandon shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it. I'm positive he'll come back, no matter where he went. Listen, I'm really tired. I'm going to turn in, okay? Can we talk about all of this," he made a vague, sweeping hand gesture, "tomorrow?"

"Sure," she said, swallowing her disappointment. "I'm just going to sit out on the patio for awhile, okay?" He kissed her and murmured something about getting up early and then stumbled off to bed.

Sophia let herself quietly out to the patio and sat for a few minutes, looking up at a sky crowded with stars. Quietly, she began to cry, picking up a cushion and hugging it to herself. She cried for the years they had lost, she cried for their mother, who had deserved better, for the father she had never known, and for an answer she had not wanted to hear. It was inescapable that Elrond had not tried all that hard to find them. She didn't doubt that he missed them and was happy to be reunited, but he had been content to wait until they came back into his life.

Maybe six years just wasn't that big a deal to someone who lived forever, but it was a very big deal for her and Brandon. No matter how long they lived, she thought, a part of them would always be trapped in that time, the dread and uncertainty of the constant moves, always a new school, a new life, as their mother slid in and out of lucidity and boyfriends. The only constant they had had was each other.

She looked up at the stars, tears still leaking out of the corners of her eyes. And now, on top of that, the world was apparently going to end. Did that mean they had no future, as well?

"Sophia," someone called out softly to her. She gasped when she saw Legolas, just beyond the edge of the patio, glowing faintly in the dark.

"I'm just leaving," she said hurriedly, ducking her head to hide her tears and jumping up. "Good night."

"Wait," he said softly, not coming any nearer. "I didn't mean to startle you. Please don't go. I just wanted to check to see if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" she said, keeping her face turned away.

"Well, you're sitting alone, in the dark, crying. Is that normal behavior for you?"

She shot him an annoyed look. "I think "alone" was the operative part."

"Look," he sighed, stepping up onto the patio. "So much has happened in such a short time. You must have questions, and none of us has really stopped to make sure you understand what's going on. Is there anything I can tell you that will help?"

"Yeah, you can tell me why the "grandfather" who supposedly loves me abandoned me. That would help."

Legolas froze and fell silent.

"Oh, weren't ready for that question, huh? You thought I was going to ask about the Great Elf Mother or something?"

Legolas chuckled, and came to sit next to her on the lounge. "Well, I thought you might want to know more about the coming war, but of course, I should have realized that there would be other things on your mind."

Sophia pulled her feet up on the lounge, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. She didn't say anything.

"If it makes you feel any better, he made me go sit out in the desert for six years, watching for you."

"He did? You were there the whole time?"

"The whole time," Legolas nodded. "I did travel around a little looking for you. I even managed to find your mother once, but she immediately went into hysterics when she saw me and claimed I was harassing her. I almost got arrested, and I think she took out a restraining order on me after that, but I didn't stick around to find out."

Sophia chuckled. "She was nuts, but she wasn't stupid, that's for sure."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Sophia said hesitantly. "Six years probably seems like the blink of an eye to you people, doesn't it?"

Legolas didn't immediately answer.

"It's not for me. A blink of an eye, I mean. If average life expectancy for women is around 72, I figure that means about 8 percent of my life was tragic and sad. And that's only if everything else works out from now on, which doesn't sound very likely. I mean, maybe I'll die in this big battle, and then one third of my life will have sucked." She fell silent, and Legolas watched her, wondering what to say. "I tried to protect Brandon, you know," she burst out, "but I couldn't keep it all away from him. And now you expect us to be heroes for you?"

Legolas thought maybe Sophia was talking to herself more than to him, but she was looking right at him. Usually, her emotions were easy to read, but her face was as blank as a clean sheet of paper.

"I think I deserve an answer," she added quietly.

"We knew the Dunedain mentioned in the prophecy would be born in the 20th century," Legolas began slowly, watching Sophia as he formulated the words. "We figured there would be a lot of you by then, but instead, we watched the children of Aragon gradually slip through our fingers. It was always something different - disease, war, accidents, and many who just could not have children. Too many to be normal. Melkor was supposed to be locked away in the void, but he had obviously found a way to work his evil in Arda, because the more we did to try to protect the descendants, the faster we lost them. By the turn of the last century, there was only one family left."

"Your great grandfather was the youngest of nine children. The family had migrated from Scotland several generations before, fleeing after the uprising in the 18th century. They eventually settled in the American midwest to farm. Two of his siblings died at birth, two more of childhood diseases. One died in a farming accident and one was killed in World War I; that one was married, but he and his wife had no children. Another never had children. Then there was your great grandfather, only the second Dunedain born in the 20th century - the first, his sister, froze to death when she lost her way in a blizzard. Your great grandfather left the farm after that happened and moved to the California desert; we moved with him and gathered around him like a wall. He knew us as his guardians, but he knew little else of his own history. He had one child before he was drafted to fight in World War II, and he asked us to keep her safe. That was your grandmother."

"Your great grandfather was killed in the war, of course, despite our best efforts to keep him alive. Although, looking back, it's not that hard to figure out what happened; it was Acharnor who went with him to Europe. We raised his daughter from childhood with full awareness of the prophecy and who she was. She wanted for nothing."

Legolas looked down at his hands now and fell silent.

"And?" Sophia prompted.

"She was very beautiful and quite intelligent, but as she grew older, she became increasingly erratic. She was taken with the idea that she had a great destiny."

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

"She ended up having an affair with one of her bodyguards - who was a very good man, by the way, with some Elven blood of his own."

"What happened to her?" Sophia whispered.

"She decided she was immortal," Legolas swallowed against the sour taste in his mouth, "and that she had super powers. I tried to get her to realize how insane that all sounded, and her responsibility to her son, but there was no reasoning with her. One day, she finally just jumped from a cliff and was killed in the fall." He glanced at Sophia, who looked nauseated. "I was there - she literally slipped through my fingers."

"No wonder you were so freaked out when I jumped into the water at Hilo," she finally said.

He smiled wanly. "Yes, well, it did flash through my mind, but at least I knew you looking for the stone and weren't trying to prove you could fly or anything."

"Is that what she was doing?"

"Yeah."

"And my father?"

"Before your grandmother died, she treated him like a little prince and filled his head with stories of our past. But after she died, I focused on making him a warrior."

Legolas rubbed his eyes. "I guess I should have seen it coming, but, as you know, he went off and joined the Army. He never lost an opportunity to remind me that it was what I raised him for." Legolas shook his head. "So, that's why your grandfather - Elrond - wouldn't let me anywhere near the two of you. I was so eager to fulfill the prophecy I nearly doomed us all."

"So, basically, both my grandmother and my mother were crazy."

"Well, to be fair, your mother was not like that before your father died - they had been high school sweethearts, you know."

"We think she touched the Silmaril."

Legolas nodded. "I wondered if that might be the case when I realized you had it. That would explain what happened to her. And as for your grandmother, she wasn't crazy, exactly, it was more like corrupted."

"So, is that going to happen to me now?"

"No," Legolas said firmly. "You have the ring, and now the Silmaril, and they were a lot more careful about how they raised you. They tried to give you preparation, but also just a happy childhood, without all the baggage."

"What about Brandon?"

"He has you," Legolas said gently.

Sophia ducked her head behind her knees. Legolas didn't realize she was crying again until he noticed her shoulders shaking. Hesitating, he reached for her, putting an arm around her, exhaling with relief when she leaned into him. He hoped that meant she didn't blame him, or at least could forgive him. He held her in his arms until her crying gave way to hiccups. She sucked in a big breath and held it for a full minute, before letting it out noisily.

"If you ever tell anyone you saw me crying, I will deny it, and then I will hurt you," she finally declared. Legolas chuckled.

"Noted," he said.

Sophia looked up at him then, her tear-stained face lovely and heartbreaking in the moonlight. Much to his shock, Legolas felt his pulse race and was acutely aware of how little distance there was between his face and hers.

"You should get some sleep," he finally said, voice husky as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. "The last thing I want to find out is what you're like when you're grumpy."

"Grumpier than usual?" she joked, pulling away from him and rising to her feet. He felt a strong urge to pull her back into his arms and clenched his fists, staying where he was.

"Oh, can you watch for Braichon?" she asked. He looked at her in confusion. "The Uruk Hai?" she clarified. "I don't know where he went. I hope he's okay." Much to his surprise, Legolas felt a small spike of jealousy at her concern, and shook his head in annoyance.

"Hey, I thought you were past that," she said sternly. "He's one of us now."

"Right, right," Legolas said hurriedly, standing up. "That's not why I was shaking my head. I'm sure he's fine, but I will keep an eye out for him."

"Thanks. Well, good night, Legolas," Sophia said softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "You didn't say anything at all uplifting, but I feel much better now, anyway - thank you."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and watched as she let herself into the apartment.

"I obviously know you're there," he finally said, "so you might as well just come out and say what you have to say."

"A little young for you, isn't she?" Elladan responded, stepping out from behind the trees beyond the patio.

"Don't be ridiculous," Legolas snapped.

Elladan just raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms.

"Come on, Legolas. How long has this been going on?"

"Nothing is going on!" Legolas insisted.

"Right. I'm not blind. And neither is my father, by the way." Legolas groaned and rubbed at his forehead.

"This one ask you to make her your queen yet?"

"Shut up, Elladan," Legolas hissed at him. "I promise you, nothing is going on."

"I can tell you that mortals and elves don't mix, my friend."

"You're still mad at Aragon?" Legolas said in disbelief. "Don't you think it's time you got over that?"

Elladan narrowed his eyes. "I was never mad at my brother," Elladan said pointedly, "but I will always miss my sister."

"Well, this is different. It's not going to happen, Elladan. Okay? By Elbereth, I swear it."

"Better not take oaths you can't keep," Elladan said, turning his back on his friend and heading to his own room.

Legolas flopped down on the lounge and stared up at the stars, muttering angrily to himself. He was still sitting in the same spot, stewing, when he heard another noise in the trees. Going completely still, he drew his knives out from behind his shoulders.

"Peace, Elf," the raspy voice came from the shadows. "I do not wish to die twice in one night."

Legolas stood, sliding the knives back into their sheaths.

"Where have you been?" he asked. "The girl was worried about you."

"I had a visitor," the Uruk Hai said, stepping onto the patio. Legolas looked at him, head tilted in question.

"It's okay," the Uruk Hai said in the dark tongue. "You may approach."

Another Uruk Hai stepped warily onto the patio, and Legolas stiffened, instinctively reaching for his knives, hesitating only when his fingers were resting on the hilts.

"He is no threat," the Uruk Hai said hastily. "He is like me - changing."

Legolas peered closely at the new Orc, who was shifting nervously from foot to foot. He was not as far along in the transformation as the first Uruk Hai, but the signs that something was happening to him were unmistakable.

"Where did you find him?" Legolas asked, his hands slowly drifting to his sides.

"He found me," the Uruk Hai explained. "Acharnor brought Orcs with him to New Zealand, and when he tried to take the stone from Sophia, this one decided to escape and follow the stone. He says he is not the only one that is changing and that Acharnor does not understand what is happening. When he saw me, he realized right away I was changing, too, and waited until all of you left to approach me."

Legolas nodded. "So, what's your plan?"

"I will go with him," the Uruk Hai declared. "We will find the others."

"And then what?" Legolas asked, but the Uruk Hai did not answer. "Look, let's talk about it with Elrond in the morning before you go anywhere, okay? And in any case, Sophia and Brandon will want to say goodbye to you."

The Uruk Hai grunted his assent.

"I'll leave you to your rest," Legolas said. "Oh, and Sophia wanted to let you know that your name is Braichon."

The Uruk Hai looked at him, forehead wrinkled.

"Earendil chose it for you. It means 'wild brother.'"

The Uruk Hai grunted again, and then smiled.

Just then, a loud, crunching sound echoed up from the harbor.

"What was that?" Legolas frowned.

"Nothing good," Braichon answered, striding immediately toward the cliff edge.

Light flashed up from the water, as another report rang out, sharp as a gunshot through the silence, along with the sound of splintering wood. Legolas ran for the path down, just as bright lights began flickering from below.

"Earendil!" he called out, Braichon and the new Uruk Hai close on his heels.

They reached the beach and froze in horror. Vingilote was still anchored offshore, but it was surrounded by frothing water, filled with writhing shapes that gleamed silver in the moonlight. Earendil stood on the deck of the ship, the star stone blindingly bright on his chest.

Legolas ground his teeth. Just when he really needed it for the first time in centuries, he had no bow. He looked around frantically for a boat they could use to go to Earendil's aid.

"No!" Braichon's fingers dug into his bicep. "Look - they are everywhere. You would not make it to him."

Legolas looked out at the water and saw the truth in the Uruk Hai's words. The creatures glinted and flashed across the shallow bay, every now and then breaking the surface with a flash of teeth or fin.

"What are they?" he demanded, looking at the two Orcs.

Braichon shook his head. "Not sure."

Just then, Elrond arrived on the beach with Elladan, Liriel followed just a few steps behind. She held a gun out to Legolas, which he took with a grim nod, and then pressed his lips together tightly when he saw who was with them.

"Sophia," he shouted, "go back up to the lodge! Go!"

She narrowed her eyes at him, shook her head vehemently, and faced out to the boat, her eyes losing focus as she stared at Earendil, who had been joined by Elwing on the deck. Legolas growled, releasing the safety as he whirled on his heel.

He, Liriel, and Elladan fired again and again, and they could hear the solid thunk of the bullets landing squarely on target. But nothing appeared to slow the assault on the ship, which began to list.

"No!" Sophia cried, holding up her hands. A white, filmy light emanated out from her, and Elrond moved to her side, grasping one of her outstretched hands. The light brightened and surged forward toward the boat, slicing through the water as it went. In the phosphorous glow, Legolas saw the animals they were hunting. Or rather, he thought to himself, the animals that had been hunting them. They had sinuous, shark-like bodies, with somewhat bulbous heads, almost like a muscular pilot whale. He could see the shine of sharp teeth.

"They have no eyes," Liriel gasped. "What are those things?"

No one had an answer. Then the light streaming across the beach from Elrond and Sophia crossed one of the creatures, glinting off its silver hide. It froze and began to sink.

"It's working!" Elladan cried to his father. "Keep going!"

The frenzy around the boat grew as the force field neared it, and Legolas heard Liriel gasp. He, too, feared the ship would founder before the ring light reached it. Suddenly, Elwing was gone, the great white bird hopping from foot to foot in her place. Earendil seized her legs as she rose, and began to rise with her, just as the boat hove over.

Seconds later, the light reached the boat, and the frothing water went abruptly still. As if a switch had turned off, the night was suddenly silent, but for the ragged breathing of the company standing on the shore and the lapping of the waves at their feet. Elwing made it to the beach and Earendil dropped to the sand, landing easily on his feet and looking up at his wife, who circled once, and then landed next to him. shivering and blurring back into her elven form.

"I do wish my clothes would change with me," she sighed, trembling at the cool night air on her naked flesh. Elrond removed his outer robe and placed it gently over his mother's shoulders.

"What was that?" He asked his father, but Earendil just shook his head, frowning.

"Nothing I have seen in all my years and travels," he allowed. "Some kind of fish, but with teeth like daggers and a hide of metal."

"You know of these creatures?" Elrond asked the Uruk Hai in the dark tongue, arching an eyebrow and pressing his lips together as Braichon nodded once. "Let us go and speak of it then." He turned to Sophia, whose eyes were drooping and shoulders slumping with obvious fatigue."Well done, granddaughter. You should go get some sleep, and we will see what can be done to fix Vingilote in the morning." He caught Liriel's eye and nodded slightly to her.

"Come on," Liriel said to Sophia. "That kind of fighting takes it out of you. Let me help you back to your room." Sophia nodded gratefully as they turned to the path.

"Now," Elrond said softly to the Uruk Hai, "tell us."


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14 Sanctuary

The sun had already risen by the time Elrond knocked on the door, letting Sophia and Brandon know it would soon be time to go. Sophia had only been asleep for a few hours, but she leaped out of bed, shaking off the horror of the night before.

"Up, up, up!" she sang out to her brother, throwing a pillow at his head. "It's time to go fly in winged chariots to a mystical castle in the sky!"

"Very funny," Brandon grumbled, giving her a baleful look, but he was quickly up and dressed, betraying his own eagerness for the day ahead.

"Are you becoming a morning person?" Sophia gasped, placing one hand over her heart and the other against her forehead. "The world really must be ending."

"It's really annoying when you're this chipper in the morning," he said, crossing his arms.

"And it's really fun to annoy you in the morning. Stalemate!" she declared.

"Seriously, Soph, What's going on? Did you put a shot of elven wine in your coffee this morning or something?"

She shook her head. "Nah. We had a battle last night with some bizarre shark creatures. Can't believe you slept through it."

"What?"

"Yeah, these crazy fish were trying to tear apart Earendil's boat, but we were able to stop them."

Sophia recounted what had happened as she threw her new clothes in the backpack she had bought the day before and stood waiting for her brother, tapping a foot impatiently.

Brandon sighed and stuffed his clothes into his backpack. "I can't believe we had our first battle and I missed it. Tell me again what happened?"

"When I saw that the ship was going to sink, I don't know, I just couldn't let it happen. I thought about keeping him safe, and felt this sort of tug from the ring." She held her hand up, and they both peered at it. "Then Grandfather...Elrond...took my hand, and together, we flooded the bay with light. And that was all."

"They sank, you said?"

"Yeah, and swam away. They were just gone. It was weird."

Brandon looked at her thoughtfully. "I wonder if they're still there, maybe on the sea floor."

Sophia started. "Well, you're certainly not going to go looking, I can tell you that!"

Brandon shrugged. "We need to know what we're dealing with - we should see if we can get one."

"No way! Absolutely not. If you had seen those things, you would not even consider getting in the water! Never again, anywhere - it was like a cross between Jaws and the Terminator."

"Okay, okay," he soothed. "Let's just get our stuff together and get out of here, okay?"

Sophia nodded,

They both brushed their teeth, even though it seemed like an absurdly normal thing to be doing, according to Sophia. Then she looked thoughtfully at the opulent marble counters, and swept all of the little shampoos and soaps off the counter and into her bag. "You never know," she noted, when Brandon raised his eyebrows at her. "Maybe elves don't bathe."

"Maybe they don't need to!" Brandon laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, it's their lodge, isn't it? And we always had soap growing up, so I think you're safe." Sophia stuck her tongue out at him.

They soon emerged, blinking, into the brightening sunrise, and headed for the lobby.

"Good morning," Liriel said warmly. "We're having breakfast in the same room where we had dinner, then we'll get going."

"Is Braichon here?" Sophia promptly asked.

"He is," Liriel responded. "With a friend, as you may recall."

Brandon looked at Sophia, who shrugged and followed Liriel into the dining room. Braichon was at the table, with the other Uruk Hai perched uneasily in the seat next to him. Legolas sat between Braichon and Elrond, Earendil and Elwing on Elrond's other side. Elladan was across the room, standing at the window, his back to the table. The platters of fruit and pastries sat untouched.

"How many do you think there are?" Elrond was saying.

"He," Braichon jerked his head toward the Uruk Hai huddled next to him, "thinks about 20 in New Zealand and more back in Hawaii, but he's not sure how many."

"How many what?" Liriel asked, as the three of them sat at the table, Brandon next to the new Orc, who jumped, leaning away nervously.

"Changlings," Elrond answered. "The Orcs affected by the Silmarils."

"Really?" Sophia broke in excitedly. "We could go get them and bring them all to Mount Aspiring!"

No one said anything right away, and then Legolas finally cleared his throat.

"It would make sense, Elrond. They can come with us to Valinor."

Elladan broke in angrily in Sindarin, clearly arguing with Legolas. At first, no one else intervened, but finally, Liriel said something to Elladan, who glared at her, shaking his head vehemently. Then Elrond said something that made Elladan nod, stabbing a finger in his father's direction. But they all fell silent when Elwing began to speak. She talked for several minutes, in a soft and steady voice, and then falling silent, reached forward and plucked a kiwi fruit off the tray and began to peel it. Earendil just smiled at the group and selected a pastry, examining it with interest before taking a bite and smacking his lips appreciatively.

"Well?" Sophia finally said.

"Your friend will look for changlings and bring them to the sanctuary," Elrond said tonelessly.

"This is a mistake," Elladan stormed. "We are handing our enemies a way to hurt us - not only us, but all of our family and friends who have gone before us to Valinor if we take these beasts to Gray Havens. Is that really what you want, father? For Valinor to be overrun with Orcs, and whatever those creatures were last night?"

"Elf," Braichon rumbled, "You heard what I said before. When Melkor wants to go to Valinor, he will go. He does not need your permission. Your elders," he nodded his head toward Earendil and Elwing, "know this."

He rose, and the Uruk Hai next to him followed his movements.

"I cannot take away your memories of my kind," he said, leaning forward on the table, speaking now to Elrond. "I cannot take away your hatred. All I can promise you is I will stand with you in the final battle."

Across the room, Elladan stared at the Uruk Hai for a long time. "You're talking better than you were yesterday," he finally observed.

Braichon nodded. "I am newly made every day." He stepped out from behind the table. "I have told you all I know of Melkor and his plans. We," he jerked a thumb toward the other Uruk Hai. "will go now and find the changed ones."

"Good luck," Earendil said in English. "See you soon."

"Wait, wait," Sophia interrupted. "How will you get around? How will you get back?"

"Here," Elrond said, pulling a wallet out of a pocket inside his robes. He opened it and extracted a credit card. "Glorfindel gave me some extra cards. Take this. And here," he drew a small satchel from around his waist and plucked a cell phone and charger out of it. "This was to be for Legolas, but I shall get him another. You know how to use these?"

"Of course," Braichon snorted.

"Well, then," Elrond slid the device and the card down the table. It was clear that while he had decided to place some trust in the Uruk Hai, he did not want to be any closer than he had to be.

"Thank you," Braichon said quietly, taking the phone and the credit card.

The air nearly shimmered with something unsaid, until Elrond sighed, and closing his eyes wearily, finally cleared his throat.

"Orc," he said, "if you come to the sanctuary after we have gone, you will need a way into Valinor."

"Father," Elladan pleaded, "you can't be serious."

Elrond chopped his hand through the air, never taking his eyes off Braichon.

"It's Dunedin. That's where the boats are. We could leave you one, but," he held up a warning finger, "they are only visible to one of elven heritage. If that is not your origin, it will not work."

"We stay," Earendil broke in, looking up briefly from his pastry, "I fix boat. We" he moved his finger back and forth between his wife and himself, as if there were any doubt of whom he spoke, "stay." He nodded to the Uruk Hai. "You find us."

Elladan and Elrond both stared, open-mouthed.

"You cannot," Elrond finally whispered.

Elwing murmured something to Elrond, stroking his face and kissing him on the cheek as he bowed his head and hid his eyes. Everyone else, except for Elladan, looked away tactfully.

Clearing his throat with a rumble, Braichon bowed to Earendil and Elwing, gave his best smile to Legolas and inclined his head toward Liriel, who returned his salute. Then he glanced at Sophia and Brandon, who were on their feet and clearly intended to escort him out.

The four walked through the lobby silently, pausing in the trees outside.

"You don't know how to use that kind of phone," Brandon said quietly.

The Uruk Hai gave him a half smile. "My pride is still unchanged."

Brandon held out his hand, and took the phone, giving Braichon a tutorial in how to use it.

"Do you speak English?" Sophia asked the other Uruk Hai.

"Little," it answered.

"Do you have a name?" The Uruk Hai shook its head.

"Ok, well, I think we should give you one before you go. Is it alright if it's not an Elf name, like Braichon's? I don't speak Sindarin."

The Uruk Hai nodded.

Sophia stroked her chin, trying to think of a good name, and then snapped her fingers.

"I have it! How about Andrew? It's an important name in human history."

"An-drew," the Orc said uncertainly, and then nodded, its mouth twisting and eyebrows lowering in what Sophia knew was supposed to be a smile. She smiled back encouragingly and held out her hand.

"Welcome, Andrew," she declared. The Uruk Hai's brow wrinkled as he looked at her outstretched hand. "Like this," she said, taking his hand in hers and shaking it up and down. "It's a common human greeting. Surely you've seen it before?"

"Don't know," the Uruk Hai mumbled, staring at their joined hands swinging through the air.

"That's good," Sophia said, letting go of his hand. "You don't want to hold it too long or people will think it's creepy."

"Creepy," Andrew repeated carefully.

"Creepy is not good."

"We go now," Braichon interrupted.

"Are you sure?" Brandon asked anxiously. "You know how to use the credit card, and you think you're good with that phone? Are you sure you don't need us to come with you?"

Braichon put a hand on Brandon's shoulder. "Good enough, friend. I am grateful. More than I can say, but someday I will tell you." Brandon grasped his arm in return.

Sophia watched him sadly. "I wonder if we'll ever see you again, or if we'll even recognize you if we do."

"You will see me," Braichon rasped. "And I will recognize you." He stood awkwardly, looking at Sophia, clearly struggling for words, but she stepped forward and embraced him. He stood stiffly for a moment, and then gradually lifted his arms to return the embrace, eyes wide.

Stepping back from her, he looked intently at her face. "I hit you," he finally said, clarifying when he saw the confusion on her face. "In the car in Hawaii. That was me. I am sorry."

"You were not yourself," Sophia shrugged.

"You saved me," he said.

"No," she shook her head, "it was the stone."

"It was you," he insisted. "The stone gave me choice; you gave me humanity. Your faith," he struggled, finally just finishing with, "thank you." He looked at his comrade. "Come, Orc."

"An-drew," the Orc said.

"Andrew," Braichon nodded, and with one last look at Sophia and Brandon, he turned and strode away, Andrew hurrying behind.

Brandon put his arm around his sister's shoulders as they watched Braichon and Andrew walk away. In the doorway behind them, Legolas discreetly withdrew back to the dining room when the Uruk Hai finally disappeared from sight.

"We were being observed," Brandon murmured.

"Uh huh," Sophia agreed.

"Do you think he was afraid we were going to run?"

"Maybe," she reasoned.

"We should go for a walk or something, just to keep him guessing."

Sophia laughed. "I like the way you think! Except that I'm hungry, and who knows when we'll get another meal. I've noticed that elves don't eat all that much."

"No, they don't," Brandon agreed. "They can go months on just lembas - that flat bread they keep giving us."

"It is really good," Sophia agreed, "but I think I would get tired of it pretty fast if that's all there were."

"I could never get tired of it," Brandon enthused, "but let's go get some real breakfast, anyway."

An hour later, they were climbing into the helicopters. Sophia and Brandon rode with Elrond, who said little and looked at no one. Legolas and Liriel rode with Elladan. Earendil and Elwing stood nearby, watching their son and grandson with smiling mouths and sad eyes. Brandon looked back at them as they rose from the ground, waving until he could no longer see them.

"I don't understand," Sophia said quietly into her headset from her seat behind Elrond. "How could you just leave them like that?"

Elrond winced, but his eyes remained fixed on the sparkling, clear sky ahead of them, and he did not respond.

"How could you do that?" Sophia persisted. "Weren't you happy to see them?"

"Of course I was," Elrond snapped. "You do not know what you are talking about."

"Yeah, well," Sophia countered, "I think I know exactly what I am talking about. You haven't seen them in like a thousand years, and you just walked away. Again."

"Soph," Brandon warned, looking worriedly at his grandfather from the co-pilot seat.

"You know nothing," Elrond bit out, knuckles white. The chopping of the rotary blades through the air was then the only sound in the cockpit.

"They left me," Elrond suddenly growled, hunching over the steering column. "They left me. They left us, and we were just children, little more than babes." He was silent for a moment. "I saw her face when she fell," he continued in a hoarse whisper, staring out the windscreen, "and she was not looking at me or at Elros. Only at the stone. Always at that accursed stone. She just left us there, with her enemies. She left us to die, and she didn't even look at us."

An oppressive silence filled the cockpit; even the sound of the blades suddenly seemed muffled. Brandon was afraid to breathe, and Sophia gripped the armrests, the skin of her knuckles taut.

Elladan's voice, calm and soothing, suddenly eased into their ears through the headphones.

"Eagle Two to Eagle One: everything all right, there? You're descending."

Elrond started and his eyes widened. He flexed his fingers and cleared his throat.

"Apologies," he said into the mouthpiece. "All is well."

He guided the helicopter back to its cruising altitude without another word.

"Grandfather," Sophia finally said in a raspy voice, "I am so sorry."

He did not immediately reply.

"Please talk to me. I swear I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," he sighed. "I know, dear one. I know. And truly, you did not." He sighed again, closing his eyes briefly.

"It happened so long ago," he said softly. "Another lifetime, really, if not several lifetimes. I had forgotten. No, no, that is not so. I had no wish to remember."

"Will you tell us?" Brandon said, touching Elrond on the forearm. "There is so much we do not know about you. Perhaps it would help to talk about it?"

Elrond pressed his lips together, looking straight ahead. But then he nodded and sighed again.

"I will begin at the beginning. Luthien, Melian's daughter, was my great grandmother on my mother's side, and Idril was my father's mother. Both fell in love with mortal men, bearing them each a child and fading when their husbands died. Luthien's child, Dior, my grandfather, became King of Doriath, though he, too, was mortal and would have aged and died as his father before him. Unfortunately, he never had the chance."

Elrond paused his narrative. "We're passing over the Cook Inlet," he noted, "if you care to look out the window." They dutifully looked down.

"You were speaking of Dior?" Brandon prompted.

"Yes," Elrond answered. "My grandfather had a Silmaril, you see, and when the sons of Feanor..."

"Wait, who's that?" Sophia asked, earning a glare from her brother.

"That is a long story, for another time," Elrond responded. "Suffice it to say that his sons had sworn to find the Silmarils, and they killed Dior and many of his people in order to get the one he had. Elwing was his daughter, and she alone of his family survived. She fled with the Silmaril to a place called Sirion, where she met my father."

Elrond paused, lost in thought for a few minutes.

"I used to think of their meeting, and how it must have seemed fated to them, for they were the only two of the half-elven alive at that time. We can pass for elves and move among them, especially on my mother's side, because of Melian's blood, but we are not, in truth entirely elves, nor are we men."

"Are there any half elven besides you now?" Sophia asked.

"No," Elrond answered. "Mine has been a lonely existence," he said matter-of-factly, returning quickly to his story. "You see, the sons of Feanor eventually caught up with my mother in Sirion, and sacked the city, looking for the stone. That was when she left us, hurling herself out the tower window rather than letting Maedhros and Maglor possess such power."

"The Valar took pity on her, turning her into a bird before she could perish. My father, meanwhile, had sailed to the Undying Lands, the first mortal to do so, to beg the Valar to stand with the children of Iluvatar against Melkor. As you have seen, my father can be rather persuasive, and so they did."

"In recognition of my parents' courage and sacrifice, the Valar allowed them to choose whether they would be elven or human, immortal or mortal. They chose to stay among the firstborn, and I never saw them again."

"And you have the same choice," Brandon added gently, when Elrond drifted off.

"Yes. All of my line have the choice. My brother chose to live among men, and you are descended from him. And then my daughter chose the same, and you are also descended from her. So, you see, you are twice precious to me."

"And Elladan and Elrohir chose to be immortal?"

"Indeed," Elrond confirmed, thinking, not for the first time, that he surely would have faded from this life long ago if they had decided otherwise.

"Well," Sophia declared, "I can't imagine why anyone would choose to be mortal."

Elrond shrugged. "I am not in a position to disagree, but I must admit there have been many times in my existence when I have found myself wearied by my memories. And even after millennia among humans, I still find it hard to comprehend the intensity of a mortal existence." He glanced sidelong at Brandon. "So you see, I truly am sorry I did not do more to find you," he said softly. "I did not realize how it would affect you."

Brandon nodded, unable to say anything. Sophia leaned as far forward as the seatbelt would allow, and squeezed her grandfather's shoulders.

"I think we understand a little better," she said, and a corner of Elrond's mouth lifted. That was not quite an apology accepted, but it was progress.

They rode in a more companionable silence for a time after that.

Sophia had embarked on the journey with a certain amount of trepidation, though it wasn't the emotional turbulence she had feared. She was cursed with motion sickness. Indeed, the passage on Earendil's ship was the first time she had been on a boat - other than the life raft, which she didn't think counted as a boat - without throwing up, and she suspected that had more to do with the nature of the boat than any improvement in her own seaworthiness. But much to her relief, helicopter travel not only did not roil her stomach, it seemed almost to lull her, like being rocked in a cradle. Soon, she was sound asleep.

"Look, children," Elrond said just then,"people ski on the volcano below, and there are actually marvelous hot springs all around that area - you would like it."

"Sophia's actually fallen asleep, grandfather," Brandon said apologetically.

"Ah," Elrond turned around briefly, then flashing Brandon a thin smile. "Good. Earendil said she has not been sleeping, so a nap will do her some good. Not to worry, Brandon, we will bring her back up on an aerial tour another time."

"She hasn't been sleeping?" Brandon repeated, flushing to the tips of his ears.

"No," Elond said.

Brandon glanced back at Sophia, thinking uneasily that there was a time when he knew everything about her - her every thought, her fears and plans. How could he not have noticed that she couldn't sleep? Well, she was sure sleeping now, he thought. Her head was thrown back, mouth wide open, with a thin trail of drool running down her chin from the corner of her mouth.

Brandon chuckled.

"What?" Elrond asked, thinking he could use a little amusement.

"She's really, really asleep - she's drooling."

Elrond smiled.

"I don't think Elladan would compare her to Arwen right this second."

"Did he?" Elrond was startled.

"Yeah. He told her at dinner last night that she looked just like Arwen. She told me about it this morning."

Elrond tilted his head to the side, thinking it over. "I suppose she does, at that. But their personalities are nothing alike, so I have not really thought much about the resemblance."

"Will you tell me about her? About Arwen?" Brandon asked softly, and after a brief hesitation, Elrond nodded.

Memory was a luxury Elrond did not often permit himself, for reasons already laid bare that morning. But it was with pleasure that he now relaxed into thoughts of his youngest child, his only daughter. He told Brandon how from the moment of her birth, Arwen had seemed cloaked in grace. And although she had great physical beauty, it was the gentle certitude of her spirit that drew her people to her. The North Star, they had called her, almost from the first time the child had opened her wise gray eyes. His heart ached for her absence, but his regret over her choice of mortality was the one memory he would not permit himself to dwell in.

"After Aragon died and their son assumed the throne, Arwen came to me in Lorien, and I cared for her there in her final days."

"Does it still exist? Lorien?" Brandon asked breathlessly.

"No," Elrond responded. "Not for a long time now. I was there for awhile, with Celeborn, Glorfindel, my sons, and the others who stayed, but after my daughter died, I felt its emptiness keenly. We moved around for centuries after that, often living among men and always keeping an eye on the Dunedain. We had a base here in Gray Havens, of course, but we didn't settle here full time until the 20th century, when modern travel made it possible for us to stay but still be a part of the world. Indeed, the remoteness of this location has become a blessing. We're finding it difficult to remain hidden in the age of the Internet."

"I noticed you seem pretty comfortable with modern technology - cell phones, air travel and all."

"Well, we have to keep ourselves entertained, you know," Elrond glanced at his grandson with a smile. "We also find the camouflage of modernity useful, and frankly necessary if we are to go into battle with every possible advantage, at least until we are able to awaken all the elves and call the Valar. There's a whole R&amp;D wing in the sanctuary compound - you should feel right at home there. Are you enjoying college? I assume you did decide on electrical engineering, as planned."

Brandon told his grandfather about his studies, and Elrond was attentive, asking questions and offering encouraging observations.

"We're approaching the sanctuary now," Elrond told Brandon.

"Already?" Brandon gasped slightly.

"You may as well wake Sophia up."

Brandon shook Sophia's shoulder gently, and she raised her head immediately, blinking her eyes at him.

"We're here, Soph," he said gently.

"Wow," she yawned. "That was quick.'

Brandon laughed softly. "You've been asleep."

She stretched her arms up over her head. "What'd I miss?"

"Well, I think the best scenery is below us now."

Sophia immediately leaned over him to look out the window.

"Oh," she breathed, "that's amazing."

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes," Elrond said. "That's Mount Aspiring, off to the right." The snow capped peak rose above them as they banked away from it and started to descend. "We'll be on the ground in five minutes. You should be able to see the compound just ahead."

Brandon and Sophia both craned their necks to get a good look, but could see nothing.

"Ah, apologies; the buildings are shielded. If you have not been here before, you will not be able to see them. Nor will "eyes in the sky." We jam satellites and radar, too - other than our own, naturally."

"Naturally," Brandon murmured, as Sophia rolled her eyes.

Elrond fell silent as he brought them in for the landing, and almost as if someone had turned the focus on a lens, the landscape around them started to come into view. By the time they landed, they could see the compound. There were graceful buildings of white marble, with carved stone wreaths along the eaves and fancy columns in the porticoes, gleaming with gold leaf frescoes. But there were also austere glass and steel structures, gleaming spirals and pyramids that stretched toward the sky. Smaller stucco structures with wide windows, rough stone foundations, and copper, domed roofs were set back into the hills that rose behind the city.

"It's beautiful," Sophia breathed.

"It's not what I expected," Brandon said at the same time. They laughed together.

"What were you expecting?" Elrond asked, taking the headphones off as the rotors above whined to a stop.

"I thought it might look like Lothlorien or Rivendell," he said, face flushed. "All majestic gray stone, flying buttresses and turrets and such. Or maybe even Mirkwood, down in caverns or up in the trees or something."

"We honor our past," Elrond smiled, "but try to move with the times. Most of these buildings date only to the 20th century; a few are older. Come," he said, opening the door for them.

Once they were all out of the helicopters, Sophia and Brandon just stared at the surroundings. There was a lake of cobalt blue and emerald green, strange, jagged and craggy peaks, and lush fields all around them, with the sound of a fast-moving river in the background.

"Welcome to Paradise," Liriel called out, as she jumped from the helicopter.

"Yes," Brandon agreed, with a happy nod, "I think Paradise must look exactly like this."

"No," Legolas said gently, as they strode across the lawn, "that's actually the name of the town. It really is Paradise."

Sophia snorted. "Of course it is. Elves. You're all so literal."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elladan said, drawing a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"Wait, Elroy is here, too, isn't he?" Sophia suddenly said. "There's going to be two of you?"

Elladan grinned at her. "Twice the fun, we always say."

"Twice the headache," Legolas observed mildly.

As if on cue, Elrohir came loping out of the building they were approaching, barely slowing down long enough to sweep Sophia and Brandon into an embrace that knocked the wind out of both of them.

"You're here!" He shouted. "You're really here! I was beginning to think we would never see you again. Wow! You've both really grown up - and out." He smirked and gave Sophia a big kiss on the cheek.

"Hey!" she said batting him away. "Off the face, mister!"

Brandon was laughing, so Elrohir leaned over and gave him a loud kiss, as well.

"Elroy!" he laughed even harder.

"It's like having golden retriever in human form," Sophia said.

Elrohir smiled broadly, and wiggled his posterior, in a fair imitation of a tail wagging. He glanced up at the rest of the party, and his smile froze.

"Where are they?" he said, abruptly still.

"They decided to stay behind," Elladan answered quickly, with a glance toward his father. He gripped his twin's shoulder, and they exchanged a look.

Elrohir turned to Legolas, smiling again, though only with his mouth this time. His eyes were shadowed and his body stilled. "I understand we have you to thank for returning our grandparents to Arda. However did you manage it?"

Legolas gave him a half smile. "By letting Liriel crash another plane."

Liriel shouted out "hey" from across the lawn where she was checking over the helicopters, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

"And getting shipwrecked and singing to stave off death by dehydration. I wouldn't recommend it." He looked thoughtfully at Brandon and Sophia. "Anyway, I think they actually summoned Earendil and Elwing, not me."

Elrohir turned to the siblings, nodding gravely to them, before embracing his father tightly, Elladan close by, murmuring something that no one else could hear.

"I've never seen him be that serious before," Brandon whispered.

"Me either," Sophia muttered. "It's kind of weird."

Nearby, Legolas snickered. "It certainly is," he agreed.

"We weren't talking to you," Sophia pointed out.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "I don't know if you noticed, but elves have very good hearing. Even Liriel can hear you."

Across the lawn by the helicopters, Liriel looked up again, grinned at them and waved.

"We're not going to have any privacy in this place, are we?" Sophia grumped.

"Apparently not," Brandon agreed lightly. "Good thing we don't have any secrets."

"That they don't already know," Sophia qualified.

Legolas coughed suddenly, looking away.

"Alright there?" Elladan asked solicitously, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he thumped Legolas on the back.

"Fine," the blond-haired elf choked out, glaring at his friend.

Just then, a young female elf with a heart-shaped face and warm brown eyes came sprinting across the lawn, her gleaming, coppery hair streaming out behind her.

"Hi Dad!" She hollered at Elladan. "Is Mom back?"

"Elanordis!" Liriel called out from the helicopter, waving happily to her daughter, who rocketed straight into her mother's arms.

Sophia glanced over at her brother and saw he was staring after the young elf, mouth hanging open.

"Cute, isn't she?" Sophia asked him, winking at Legolas.

"Wha..What? No..."

"You don't think my daughter is cute?" Elladan demanded, pursing his lips at Brandon.

"Oh, no. I mean yes. I mean she's cute. Yes."

"You do think my daughter is cute?" Elladan hissed, lowering his head and narrowing his eyes, sending Brandon into a fit of red-faced, stammering apologies.

"Oh, give the guy a break," Legolas laughed. "He's just giving you a hard time, Brandon. Everyone thinks Ela is cute."

Sophia glanced at Legolas, lips pursed. Elladan stifled a laugh.

"Come," Elrond interrupted. "We should give our new arrivals the tour, and Glorfindel - Del - will want to see all of you. Tonight, we'll have a feast of celebration. Tomorrow, a day of rest. But then it will be back to work."

"Work?" Brandon asked, clearly relieved to change the subject.

"Yes, indeed. We have a battle to prepare for."


	15. Chapter 15: Proving Grounds

_**We're back with a new chapter, and we seriously revised the last one, so if you have a chance, take a look. And thanks to the great feedback, we're also going to rework the title and summary. A little Legomance action in this one - sorry if that's not your thinkg. We own nothing. Really - nothing.**_

CHAPTER 15: Proving Grounds

Brandon blocked the strike with his small shield just before the dull blade could smack him in the cheek, simultaneously bringing his own sword underneath in a swift upward cut, which his opponent failed to see coming. Brandon's sword hovered less than an inch above the elf's sternum. He glanced up at his opponent, who was pale and wide-eyed with shock, then flushing with anger before finally dropping his head in grudging acceptance. The grim-faced elf had scarcely stepped back before the next elf advanced.

This was the first combat training they had taken part in since arriving in Paradise the week before, and while word of their presence had certainly spread, no one knew anything about them - and whether they could fight. Well, now they know, Sophia thought smugly, the lift in her right eyebrow communicating pride in her brother's prowess.

A sword clattered to the floor, as his latest victim massaged a numb hand and walked away, muttering in a very un-elflike fashion.

"Uh oh," Sophia breathed, when she saw who was next.

Elanordis stepped forward, raising her blade in a salute, laughter in her eyes, as always. Sophia noticed that Brandon was hesitating. She hoped no one else noticed, especially Ela. The combatants circled warily, striking at each other experimentally, testing each other's reach and reflexes. Just then, the flat of Brandon's blade rapped Ela on the knuckles, and the young elf gasped audibly.

"I'm so sorry," Brandon exclaimed, lowering his blade slightly and rolling back on his heels, "did I hurt you?"

"No," Ela said, with a gleam in her eyes that should have tipped off her opponent. Indeed, what happened next happened so fast, Sophia barely had time to register the flash of copper hair, crash of a fallen blade, and the whuff of a body landing on the training floor.

Brandon was sprawled out on the ground, with Ela's knee on his chest and her sword at his throat.

"I'm so sorry," Ela said sweetly, "did I hurt you?"

Brandon groaned and closed his eyes. Then he looked up at the young elf perched on his chest with the same expression of disbelief his other opponents had worn that morning. Unlike the others, however, he then started to laugh.

"No," he said, grinning up at the elf maiden. "No, you didn't hurt me. Nothing other than my pride, anyway."

She grinned back at him and took her knee off his chest, rising and sheathing her blade.

"Well, looks like that needed a little trim, no?" She responded, offering him her hand.

"Apparently so," he chuckled, accepting her help to his feet.

"Who's next?" Ela said cheerfully, hands on hips. From the mumbling and downcast eyes in the room, Sophia surmised that Ela's swift dispatch of her brother was not a freak accident. The elf girl apparently had the face of a cherub and the heart of a killer.

Sophia sighed and stepped forward.

Ela's eyes widened slightly, and she bowed her head. Sophia returned a nod, never taking her eyes off the elf.

That turned out to be wise, for the second Sophia stepped into the combat ring, marked by a curved blue line in the middle of the room, Ela whirled toward her, sword flashing. Sophia rolled forward under the blade, springing lightly to her feet and turning, sword swinging in a wide arc. Ela hopped quickly to the side, parrying the blade downward. Sophia was able to twist hers away before Ela could flick the sword inward in a disarming move.

They stepped apart, circling each other silently. Ela was still smiling, but her eyes were dark with concentration now.

Sophia suddenly slashed forward, and Ela's guard went up, just as Sophia changed direction and made a slicing cut toward the elf's knee. There was a murmur of appreciation from the watching crowd at the sound of tearing fabric. The blade had not touched the skin, but it was obvious to the audience that it could have.

The counter attack was sudden and savage, but Sophia was ready for it, thanks to Braichon's tutorials about Orc fighting style. The heavy clang of the swords left more than one observer wincing, and then there was a series of thrusts and parries almost too quick to follow.

No one had even noticed that Glorfindel had entered the training room and was also watching the fight, arms crossed and a small smile on his lips. He was wearing a custom-tailored, pinstriped suit, cut close in the European style, with a narrow silvery-green tie and a crisp white dress shirt. Short golden blond hair curled back behind his ear, which had a barely visible flesh-colored bluetooth earpiece tucked into it.

Both women were sweating now, and Ela was no longer smiling at all. Sophia feinted right, slashed toward the left and then immediately came overhanded to the right again. Ela ducked under the blade, coming up to Sophia's unprotected left and hit her with a solid blow. There were cheers from some of the audience, and Brandon glared at them.

Ela paused slightly when she realized she'd made contact, and that was all Sophia needed. She moved behind her opponent, locked an arm around her neck, and held the sword tip against her back, right behind the kidney.

"Yield," Sophia growled.

"You need to rest?" Ela taunted.

"Do you yield or not?" Sophia shouted.

"Never!" Ela shouted back, kicking Sophia in the shin and bashing the back of her head into the bridge of Sophia's nose in one swift movement. Sophia staggered back, guard up, while Ela darted to the side.

Sophia furiously blinked the tears from her eyes, ignoring the iron taste of blood in her mouth. The sound of someone clapping loudly nearly made her take her eyes off Ela, which would have been a mistake. The elf girl charged.

"That's enough!" a voice boomed, so loudly that Ela tripped and almost impaled herself.

Glorfindel strode into the combat ring, and the watching elves bowed respectfully, glancing uneasily at each other. The elf leader rarely came to see training exercises. He offered Ela a hand up, which she took, eyes wide.

"My Lord," she stammered. "We were just sparring...

He chuckled. "You are long past the point of sparring. Ordinarily, I might punish you both for losing your sense of perspective," he raised an eyebrow as he looked at Sophia, who was breathing heavily, "but perhaps we will all need a change in perspective now." He looked around the room at the gathered elves. "It is time," Glorfindel said quietly. "Dagor Dagorath is upon us. You all need to train this hard now, so mark her technique," he added, gracefully swinging his hand toward Sophia.

"But sir," one dark-haired elf protested, "they are just mortals. What could we possibly learn from them?"

"Perhaps you would like to fight me again, then?" Brandon said politely. "I'd be happy to "teach" you some more." The elf growled and stepped forward, his sword coming up.

"Enough," Glorfindel cut in, and while he did not raise his voice, his tone caused the elf to take a wobbly step back and Brandon to lower his eyes.

"The time for childish games is past," he continued, in a voice of whetted steel. "We will need all the allies we can find if we are to prevail in this war, make no mistake." He paused, noticing the mutinous light that remained in far too many faces. "You will win Melkor's fight for him with your notions of elven purity, Galion." It had been many years since he had said the dark angel's name out loud, and there were more gasps. "In any case," he continued more lightly, stepping toward Brandon and putting a hand on his shoulder, "these are not just mortals." He flicked his fingers toward Sophia, and she came to his side. He placed his other hand gently on her shoulder, as well, and instantly knew he needed to get her away from the training ground. The wound in her side was serious, and she was going to faint soon.

"We have finally found the prophecied ones," Legolas said from behind him, and Glorfindel was surprised that he had not sensed the elf entering the room.

_Take out the Silmarils,_ he thought at Sophia and Brandon, which they promptly did.

About half of the gathered elves fell to their knees, he noted approvingly, and the other half at least looked stunned. They were not beyond saving, as he had hoped.

_Press the stone to your right side, Sophia_, he thought at her gently, just as Legolas stepped behind her, placing a steadying hand discreetly on her lower back. He could feel the stone's power hum, almost to the point that it was audible.

"All of you return to your training," Glorfindel directed, "and act as though your life depends on it. Because it just well might. Brandon, Sophia, Elanordis, with me, please. We need you in the lab."

Sophia thrust her chin into the air, but tried to keep her shirt away from her body. She could feel the blood oozing down her side, and she didn't want those snotty elves to see that she was injured.

Legolas slid next to her, standing very close. She glanced at him, and saw him nod slightly at her. He understood. He put an arm around her, managing to make it look like nothing more than a friendly gesture but feel like an iron crutch.

She walked deliberately, chin still in the air, until they were just out of sight of the doorway, and then her eyes promptly rolled back in her head and she started to drop. Legolas easily swung her up into his arms.

"We'll see you there," he said shortly, striding swiftly away.

Ela stared after them, white-faced.

"Your knee," Glorfindel said mildly, putting a restraining hand on Brandon, who had turned to run after Legolas, "you are wounded?"

"No," Ela whispered hoarsely.

Glorfindel stared at the young elf until she looked up and met his eyes.

"And that, Elanordis, is why she is a better fighter than you are," he said. His voice was gentle, but Ela dropped her head in shame.

"Yes," Ela agreed faintly. "I understand."

"What do you understand?"

"She kept control of herself," Ela responded.

"So, you did not, in fact, intend to kill your new friend?"

"No!" Ela exclaimed, looking up in alarm. She did not, however, look at Glorfindel; her eyes were fixed on Brandon.

"It's okay, Ela," Brandon soothed her. "Sophia's tough. And she knows you weren't really trying to kill her."

"That's just it," Ela said miserably, dropping her gaze. "I was. I actually was. Maybe I even would have if Glorfindel hadn't stepped in."

Brandon's mouth dropped open and he just stared at her.

"You have the skill and the heart to be the best fighter we have, young one," Glorfindel said into the silence. "But you have become overconfident. Do not forget this lesson. Loss of control will not often fall in your favor in an actual battle."

Ela did not raise her eyes. "I will not forget, master," she whispered.

"When you are ready," Glorfindel said more gently. "We really do need Brandon in the lab." With that, he turned on his heel and walked ahead, giving the two youngsters a chance to talk.

They stood there awkwardly for some minutes, neither talking and not looking at each other.

"I'm such an idiot," Ela finally breathed. "Can you forgive me?"

Now Brandon looked away, brow furrowed, heart pounding in his chest. In the week they had been in the sanctuary, Ela had been their guide and constant companion. He and Sophia had not had a chance to form many friendships with people their own age, let alone date or do normal teenager things. At first, he thought maybe the way he was feeling about her was just his lack of experience with girls, but he had been starting to think it was more than that. And yet, how could he feel that way about someone who wanted to hurt Sophia?

"Do you really want to kill her, like those other guys? I can tell they hate us."

"No!" Ela exclaimed, putting a hand on Brandon's arm and giving him a shake. "No! Yavanna help us, no! I absolutely do not want to kill Sophia. I already think of her as the sister I never had. No," she repeated, giving Brandon another shake. "It's not like that at all. I just got caught up in the fight - I wasn't even seeing Sophia anymore. Do you understand?" She was nearly begging him.

Brandon finally met her eyes, and saw with a pang that she was in tears. "I guess so," he said softly. He thought back to the fight on the volcano, remembering that terrible moment when he thought they were going to die. A rage had consumed him then, taking over his thoughts and propelling his body past the point of exhaustion, and while he had never completely lost it, he could see how that might have been possible. "Yes," he said more firmly. "I do understand."

"And forget those losers," Ela flipped her chin back toward the training room dismissively. "Well, some of them, anyway. Most of them are fine. A few are part of this separatist movement. They've never lived out in human society and think we should have a war of conquest. Dad says they're just too young to remember what a real war is like and too stupid to imagine one. Don't let them bother you." He was acutely aware that her hand was still on his arm.

"Are you sure you're not mad at me?" she asked, biting her lip.

"I'm a little taken aback," he admitted, flushing, "but I could never really be mad at you, Ela."

They stared at each other, and Brandon wondered nervously if he should try to kiss her, if she would even let him. He decided to compromise and just gave her a gentle peck on the cheek.

"Okay," she said softly. "Okay," she repeated, swallowing hard. She reached out suddenly, embracing him with a ferocity that literally knocked the wind out of him and left him gasping. Ela fluttered around him, apologizing frantically while he leaned forward with his hands on his knees. Finally, he sat down in the grass, drawing in deep breaths.

"Let's just sit here for a minute," he sighed, as Ela crouched down next to him, looking at him anxiously. He was aware of the sun, warm on the back of his neck, of the grass, cool under his legs, and the touch of Ela's fingers, moving gently across his skin.

Then she cleared her throat and dropped her hand from his arm, breaking the building tension between them. "We should get to the lab and make sure Sophia's okay."

"Yeah," he agreed hurriedly, horrified when his voice cracked. Ela giggled, and he punched her lightly in the arm.

"Race you?" she challenged, rising to her feet and holding her hand out to him.

"Well, now," he drawled, as she pulled him up, "I wouldn't want to take advantage of a wounded elf."

"Ha!" she exclaimed, eyes glinting, and took off, Brandon sprinting after her.

Across the compound, Glorfindel stood in the doorway of the lab's first aid room.

"How is she?" He asked the silver-haired elf, who was kneeling next to the cot. "Shall we take her to the hospital?"

Legolas shook his head. "She's out of any real danger, thanks to the Silmaril. But it was a near miss. If you hadn't been there..."

"You would have been there in time," Glorfindel pointed out. "In fact, how did you happen to arrive just then? And without my noticing?"

Legolas looked at him in surprise, and then winced.

"Ah," Glorfindel said, comprehension dawning quickly. "Like that then, is it? I did wonder... That would certainly explain why Elrond is hovering around her so much."

Legolas sighed and looked away. "You don't need to worry about it," he muttered.

Glorfindel laughed, and Legolas glanced back at him.

"My dear friend, I am not Elrond. I am not in the least bit worried about it. Indeed, this bond between the two of you appears to have already proven useful, and I suspect it will again. I was there by chance, after all. You were there because you knew she was in trouble, correct?"

Legolas nodded briefly, his face impassive.

"Now, now," Glorfindel chided him. "If you have that strong a connection with the girl, it is meant to be."

Legolas shook his head. "She's just a child."

Glorfindel looked down at Sophia thoughtfully. "Sophia has never really been a child," he said softly, "though I suppose she has some youthful tendencies. At any rate, she is an adult in human terms. Don't be such a prude."

"It's not the time for such things," Legolas insisted.

"For what things?" Sophia said softly from the cot. She was awake, staring at Legolas.

"For fatal practice duels," Glorfindel cut in smoothly when he saw Legolas flush with horror, much to his own amusement. "How are you feeling, dear one?"

"A little stiff," Sophia admitted, sitting up and lifting her shirt to look at her side, "and like I have an open wound and a broken nose."

"Your nose is just bruised, fortunately, though I'm sure it hurts. And I'll stitch the wound for you," Legolas said, keeping his hands busy with the first aid kit.

"Maybe I should just use the Silmaril again," Sophia said hopefully.

Glorfindel shook his head. "The stone already provided considerable healing," he noted, "and there is a limit to how much of that kind of elemental power a mortal can absorb. I'm afraid you'll have to be stitched."

Sophia grimaced. "Fine, but please tell me you have novocaine or something like that in there."

"Something like that," Legolas murmured, "if you'll just come over here." He helped her up from the cot and onto an exam table.

"Do you want me to take my shirt off?" Sophia asked him as he poured a thick green fluid on a gauze pad and handed her an icepack for her nose.

"Um, no. That won't be necessary if you could just lift it up a bit." He could hear Glorfindel's suppressed laughter echoing in his head as Sophia tucked her shirt up above her midriff and Legolas swabbed the wound with the green serum.

"I'm sorry, Del," Sophia finally said.

"For what?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"For letting things get out of hand."

"Forgiven. Don't let it happen again."

"Wait a minute!" Sophia exclaimed, not even noticing in her indignation that Legolas had started repairing the wound. "That was totally not my fault!"

"Oh?" Glorfindel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"And she is probably, like, a thousand years older than I am!"

"Really? Then why are you apologizing?"

"Because... Because..." Sophia sputtered. She drew in a big breath, and then exhaled heavily.

"Please hold still," Legolas admonished her.

"Because I knew better," Sophia finally admitted.

"Right," Glorfindel agreed, "She had forgotten herself, and yet you allowed her to give you what could have been a fatal wound."

Sophia hung her head.

"Glorfindel..." Legolas began.

"Be quiet," the ancient elf snapped.

"We raised you better than that," he finished softly, as Legolas pressed a bandage over the stitches. "You are better than that. You have to be, if we're going to survive what's coming." He reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "But you fought remarkably well, my dear."

Sophia smiled up at him, but her eyes were glassy with gathering tears. "I was pretty good, wasn't I? But I'll be better next time."

"I have no doubt about that," he smiled back at her and kissed her on the forehead. "Stay here and rest for another 20 minutes or so, then join us in the imaging laboratory, please. I will tell your brother and your erstwhile opponent that you are recovering nicely if they turn up. Legolas will be glad to keep you company in the meantime."

"Glorfindel," Legolas said again, warningly.

"Yes?" Glorfindel answered mildly.

"Nothing," Legolas muttered, turning away to clean up.

Glorfindel strode out of the room, chuckling to himself. He was not without some sympathy for the younger elf's predicament, but all of his senses told him this was a good development, maybe even an important one. Still, Legolas could be a bit too self-contained, to put it mildly, and it would be amusing to see him out of his comfort zone for a change. He began whistling the Ley of Luthien, knowing Sophia wouldn't hear it and Legolas would.

The elf in question ground his teeth. "You can pull your shirt down now," he barked, without turning around.

"You're mad at me now, too?" Sophia said, gingerly pulling her shirt over the bandage. "I thought you were on my side."

"I'm not mad at you," he answered shortly.

"Ohhh kay," she said, peering up at him. "You're sure acting like you are."

He looked at her, and she almost flinched when his eyes seemed to bore into hers.

"That could have been a mortal wound, Sophia," he said quietly.

"No way," she scoffed.

"I felt it," he corrected her.

"What?" she looked up at him, startled.

He went back to packing up the surgical kit.

"What do you mean you felt it?" she demanded.

He didn't answer her.

"Legolas?" she asked, and this time her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

He sighed and turned back to her. "Strong emotions, physical pain," he finally said. "I can sense them."

She narrowed her eyes, watching him closely. "Everyone's?"

"Just yours," he glanced at her, but her face told him nothing. She had gone expressionless.

"Is it that the bond you mentioned, back in Hilo?"

He hesitated. "No, that was about the prophecy," he admitted.

"Then why?"

Legolas just looked at her, struggling for words that might satisfy her but sidestep the truth, even as he desperately wanted to tell her how he felt. But she cut him off before he could formulate an answer.

"Alright. You don't want to talk about it. I get it. Can we go now?"

"Sure," he quickly responded. He started to warn her to take it slowly, but Sophia had already jumped off the table. Her legs immediately began to fold underneath her, and he leapt forward to catch her, holding her by the elbows. She grabbed at him wildly, her arms twining around his neck.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked.

"Dizzy," she gasped. "Ugh."

"It's okay. It will pass in a moment - you just lost a little blood. And no more jumping, please. We'll need to make sure the wound didn't reopen before we go anywhere."

He looked down into her face with concern, only to see she was staring up at him, wide-eyed. He realized abruptly that he was holding her in his arms, her body pressed against his. The moment he became aware of it, he felt a tingling sensation emanate from his chest, which seemed to shimmer around his skin and then envelop them both. No, he thought frantically, I can't let this happen. He released her elbows and tried to move away, but she tightened her hands around his neck.

"Don't let go of me," Sophia whispered. Legolas closed his eyes, with a pained expression.

"I need to check the wound," he said pushing her gently away.

She let her arms drop then, as suddenly as though she had burned her hands.

"Sorry," she muttered, a blush creeping from her forehead all the way down to her neck. He pretended not to notice, carefully lifting her shirt just a few inches and peering under a corner of the bandage.

"It's fine," he said, trying to step away, but he could not move his feet.

"What is this?" Sophia asked quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. "What is happening here?"

Legolas looked at her and his palms itched with the urge to touch her.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Like you're totally grossed out?"

Legolas exhaled loudly. "I'm not "grossed out," it's just...Ah, Elbereth. I really don't want to deal with this right now."

Sophia swallowed audibly. "I understand. You must be horrified, to have a human touch you like that."

Sophia tried to rush past him, but Legolas stopped her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"You don't understand. Not at all. Just listen to me while I try to explain, okay?" Sophia shot him a mutinous look. and Legolas tightened his hold on her. "Elves are different from humans, Sophie," he saw her roll her eyes, and he smiled. "Yes, I know, an understatement. But I mean when it comes to...love."

She wasn't rolling her eyes now, and her face had taken on that eerie blankness again, the emotional camouflage he knew both siblings had learned through years of practice.

"Elves don't have the same need to reproduce in order to survive as a species, so we don't have the same, ah, sense of, um, urgency, I suppose you might say, about...having families. But we are just as social, perhaps even more so, so we do date and have relationships. But there's only one bond mate. That bond is physical and emotional, just as with humans, but it is also more than that. I suppose you might call it spiritual. We can't control when the connection appears - or with whom. That's why I knew you'd been hurt so seriously." He paused, watching her unmoving expression.

"Are you saying I am your...your match?" Sophia asked quietly.

"It appears so," he said evenly. "I'm sorry. It doesn't often occur across species. I didn't mean for it to happen."

She shook his hands off and turned her back to him, leaning against the exam table. "No," she said, "I don't suppose you would, if you had a choice, would you? Well, don't worry. I won't hold you to it."

"Sophia," he said, and the tone in his voice forced her to turn back around, but she wouldn't raise her eyes to him.

She was startled when she felt his thumb under her chin and fingers on her cheek, as he tilted her head up. His lips were gentle on hers, but there was nothing gentle about the electric charge that sparked between them as soon as their lips met.

"You are my choice," Legolas murmured against her mouth. He leaned back and looked at her. "It's just... Look, Sophie, I'm 5,000 years old. It's a bit of an age difference," she let out a small puff of air, like a silent chuckle. "Not to mention that we are on the threshold of a war that could kill us both. It's not fair to you."

"And I am mortal, which is not fair to you," she said softly.

She just looked at him, and he felt the heat swirling in the air between them, flaring against the pads of his fingers where they still touched her cheek. In spite of himself and everything else, Legolas leaned in and kissed her again.

Across the building in the lab, Glorfindel smiled and resumed his whistling.

"You seem very upbeat today," Elrond remarked. "Disturbingly so."

"I can't help feeling that love is in the air, my friend," Glorfindel commented.

Elrond narrowed his eyes at the grinning Eldar.

"Where did you say the children are?"

"Training mishap," Glorfindel answered, dropping his smile. "They should be here soon, though."

"Are they well?" Elrond asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

"They are now," Glorfindel soothed his friend. "But Elanordis finally had that breakthrough we've been expecting."

"Ah," Elrond nodded. "Which unfortunate soul was she dueling?"

"Sophia," Glorfindel told him, putting a hand on Elrond's chest as he rose in alarm. "Legolas is taking care of her. She'll be fine."

Elrond's expression darkened. "Where are they?"

"Right here," Legolas responded from the doorway, and Elrond's eyebrows descended so far they nearly covered his eyes when he saw that the woodland elf was holding his granddaughter's hand. Legolas met Elrond's glare and then very deliberately lifted Sophia's hand and pressed his lips to it before releasing her. Sophia's expression was studiously neutral, but the pink stain across her cheeks gave away her emotions.

_Let it go_, Glorfindel thought at him.

Elrond gritted his teeth and snapped his gaze over. "Noldoran," he seethed, "you sanctioned this?"

"There's nothing to sanction, grandfather," Sophia interrupted.

"That did not look like 'nothing,'" Elrond said, with surprising gentleness.

"Nothing yet," Sophia clarified, without looking at Legolas as her blush deepened. "Grandfather, I believe you know I didn't expect this or ask for it, and neither did Legolas. But it's not a bad thing, right?"

"You are entirely right, my dear," Glorfindel broke in quickly, as Elrond scowled at him. "And no, it's not bad. In fact, it's a very good thing. Some elves wait a lifetime and never find their true mate. Legolas himself has been alone for nearly 5,000 years." Legolas made a noise somewhere between a protest and embarrassment. "Indeed, both your grandfather and I know what it feels like to be separated from half of your soul, and neither of us would wish that on anyone. Right, Elrond?"

For better or worse, the elven leader did not have a chance to respond.

"Sophia!" Brandon exclaimed, crashing into the room. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, holding up a hand, "just handle with care for a couple of days, okay?"

Brandon gave her a careful hug, and her eyes met Ela's over his shoulder. The young elf was hesitating in the doorway, rolling nervously on the balls of her feet.

"Hey, killer," Sophia called out to her, "come to gloat?"

Ela winced and then smiled weakly. "Trust me," she answered, "You're one who should be gloating." She skipped across the room then and threw her arms around Sophia.

"If you are all quite finished," Elrond said dryly, "we have work to do. Brandon, if you please, we need your opinion on something."

Elrond beckoned Brandon over to a light table, where several elves clad in white robes were working, some bent intently over the table, some at computer terminals, some gliding back and forth to what looked like a centrifuge and a chemical analysis station.

The light table appeared to be covered in small pellets.

"What are those?" Sophia asked.

"We're calling them bio-drones," Glorfindel commented. "Hannasiel can tell you more." He beckoned to a brown-haired she-elf, who wore protective goggles.

"Good morning," the elf said pleasantly. "We obtained this sample in Canada..."

"Obtained?" Brandon asked, frowning and leaning over the table for a closer look.

"We had a colony of elves there, in the mountains outside Vancouver," Elrond explained. "They were attacked about a month ago by these things; there were only a few survivors. The rescue team recovered these from the scene."

"If you come over here," Hannasiel continued smoothly, "you may see one under a microscope."

Brandon stepped up to the eyepiece eagerly and stared down through the tube for several minutes in silence.

"Is that biomechatronic?" He finally asked, without looking up.

"Yes, indeed," Hannasiel confirmed. "They appear to have used the DNA of an insect - we suspect it is a hornet - and mixed it with nano-robotics. It moves on biomechanical energy, not electricity or some other sort of exogenous fuel, and it can deliver quite a lethal payload."

"What sort of payload?" Brandon looked up with a frown.

"We're not certain," Hannasiel sighed. "The bodies we recovered showed both shrapnel wounds and neurotoxins. But we haven't been able to determine exactly how these work yet to deliver such a devastating result."

"You mean these little flies can do that?" Sophia asked.

"So we believe," Glorfindel confirmed.

"You think Melkor designed these for a war in Valinor, then?" Brandon asked.

"Correct," Elrond agreed, with a grim smile. "I knew you would understand. Glorfindel is the only one among us who has actually been to Valinor - it is not generally possible to return from there."

"It's a long story," Glorfindel allowed at Sophia's curious look. "Suffice it to say that I believe electricity, radio waves, mechanical power - none of it functions well in Valinor. It has an electromagnetically charged atmosphere that interferes with all kinds of spectrum. So, the fact that these creatures are, on some level, alive, is surely no coincidence."

"Like those things that attacked Earnedil's boat," Sophia said.

"Most likely," Elrond agreed. "Braichon told us Melkor had designed special weapons, but he did not know the details. We believe Melkor is working with humans on this, possibly unwitting accomplices."

Sophia shivered. "Have there been other attacks?"

Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged glances. "I'm afraid so," Glorfindel finally answered.

"Do you have other samples?" Brandon asked.

"No," Glorfindel said. "We recovered nothing but bodies from the other incidents."

"Something was different this time," Brandon muttered, peering into the microscope again.

"Why don't we leave you to it?" Elrond said, grasping Brandon's shoulder. "Let Hannasiel and the others fill you in on what we've discovered so far. Your recent schooling and intuitive gifts should prove very helpful."

Brandon flushed with pleasure at his grandfather's praise.

"I'll do my best," he promised.

"Should I stay, too?" Ela asked hopefully.

"No," Glorfindel cut in, before Elrond could answer. "You will spend the rest of the week in the training ring. Understood?"

"Yes, master," the young elf said, bowing her head.

"Sophia," Elrond beckoned to her, "I need your help with mission planning, but for today, I would like you to return to your rooms for some rest." He turned then to Legolas. "And I will need you in the headquarters building right now. We expect elven delegations to be arriving in Paradise over the coming weeks, and I will need you to lead the logistics team."

As soon as Elrond turned away, Legolas shot Sophia a wry smile, and she shook her head in amusement.

"I will see you to your quarters," Glorfindel offered.

"I've found them by myself every day this week," Sophia noted.

"Nonetheless," he answered, sweeping a hand out in front of him to indicate that she should precede him. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Glorfindel tilted his head toward Sophia and said, "yes?"

"What?" she responded.

"You have questions?"

"I didn't say anything."

"But you do have questions."

She frowned at him. "You shouldn't ask people about things they don't say out loud, you know."

Glorfindel waggled his fingers at her, signet ring sparkling. "Human niceties."

"How in the world were you ever able to pretend to be a cowboy?" Sophia asked, exasperated.

"I liked being a cowboy," Glorfindel countered. "And I think I was rather good at it."

Sophia smiled at him and threaded her arm through his, leaning into him. "You were very convincing, but this Wall Street banker or super lawyer, whatever you are supposed to be, seems to suit you better."

"I have been many things in my lifetime," Glorfindel smiled.

"And how long is that, anyway?"

"Very, very long," he answered with another wave.

"Longer than Elrond?"

"Much," he agreed. "I am quite an old man."

"Then why is he in charge?"

"What makes you think he is?"

"Well," Sophia reasoned, "he acts like he is."

Glorfindel laughed. "He does, doesn't he? Force of habit, I suppose. And he is in charge, in many ways. Think of it like a parliamentary system, my dear. I am the head of state, and he is the head of government."

"So, that makes you the Queen of England?"

"Touché."

She responded with a small curtsy. They walked in silence for a moment. "So, which was your favorite role you've played, in all these years?"

"I most enjoyed being a husband and a father," he said softly.

Sophia glanced up at him, but he still wore his habitual expression, one of knowing amusement. His eyes, however, were fixed on the far horizon.

"My wife and children were killed in the wars elves fought against each other, ages ago. I was not there to protect them." Sophia looked shocked. "Yes, my dear, unfortunate but true; elves are not any better than any other species, despite our pretensions."

"Elrond told us a little, but I don't understand what the wars were really about."

"Oh, the usual things. Territory. Wealth. Power. That stone in your pocket was the proximate cause, more than once, I'm sorry to say." He paused and looked at her appraisingly. "I heard that you and Brandon twice offered Earendil and Elwing the stones." She nodded, and his lips stretched out in a broad smile as he patted her shoulder. "Those young upstarts in the training ring with all their bankrupt notions of superiority would be shocked to know that makes you categorically better than they are, or their ancestors, at least." Sophia snorted, and Glorfindel stopped and stared at her, unsmiling.

"I am not joking now," he informed her.

"It can be hard to tell sometimes," she shot back at him.

They continued on in an uneasy silence.

"What will happen to Legolas," Sophia finally blurted out, "if we're together? This must have happened before."

Glorfindel looked at her, eyes narrowing. "It is not unprecedented," he allowed.

"Well?" she demanded, putting her clenched fists on her hips. "What's going to happen? And don't lie to me. Or do that evasive Elf thing, either."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows at her. "Most likely, he will die when you die," he said evenly. Sophia had not yet learned there was a price to direct questions. There was a reason the Eldar were evasive with mortals.

She staggered back a step, flexing her fingers as though she were pushing something away. She shook her head violently. "No," she whispered. "No."

Glorfindel stepped close to her and pulled her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "It is already too late, Sophia," he explained, not unkindly. She stared at him, eyes wide in dismay.

"It is important for you to understand that you are not a normal human, Sophia," he said softly, stopping short when she snorted again. "Yes, well, that came out wrong. But a regular person would not be able to last long in a fight with an elf, let alone best one. Surely you realize that?" Sophia's eyes shifted away uneasily. "And Brandon really will be able to help them in the laboratory, despite the fact that Hannasiel has been studying science since the time of Copernicus."

Sophia's face had gone blank, and she was looking at the ground.

"Don't be afraid, little one," he said gently, kissing her on the top of her head and stepping back. "You have these gifts for a reason. The prophecy says the children of Iluvatar will meet Melkor one last time and then Arda will be destroyed; it doesn't say who wins. I am not optimistic about humanity's chances, nor about the firstborn, if we act alone. I believe you and Brandon, with Eru's obvious blessings, are the catalyst to our survival."

"That...That's a pretty heavy burden, Del. What makes you think we're even remotely ready for that?"

"You will be. And it is a burden you need not bear alone. Legolas will help you; we all will, albeit in a different way than Legolas will." He lifted an eyebrow suggestively, and she frowned back at him.

"I don't remember you guys being so nosy, back in Joshua Tree."

"Ah, but you were just a child then, and now you are ever so much more interesting. Be sure to get some rest, my dear. It is a great deal to take in." He kissed her on the head again and turned to go.

"Oh, and Sophia?"

"Yes?"

"Don't be afraid to trust your feelings."

"Why do people keep saying that to me?" She threw up her hands and stomped into her room.

Glorfindel walked away smiling and whistling.


	16. Chapter 16

**_AN: we just noticed another posting error. There was a whole chapter missing! So if the transition from chapter 11 to chapter 12 seemed a bit abrupt, it was. We'll repost the whole thing in the right order, but in the meantime, chapter 11 is now greatly expanded, with a "chapter 11.5" added in. Sorry about that! Pheas &amp; Theo_**

CHAPTER 16: Survival Training

"Isn't it supposed to be summer here?" Sophia muttered, pulling her cap down over her ears and picking her way carefully through the icy rocks.

"It is," Ela responded cheerfully. "You should see how much snow is up here in July!"

Sophia shivered and grumbled something unintelligible.

"Oh that's right," came a voice from behind them, "humans are susceptible to cold."

Brandon and Sophia glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.

"That's why I'm going to let you take last watch tonight, Galion," Sophia chirped. "You wouldn't want us poor humans to freeze to death."

She was pretty sure the pompous elf grumbled something to the contrary, but she pretended not to hear.

Galion would not have been her companion of choice for wilderness training, but she wasn't given a choice, so she tried to make the best of it. At least Brandon and Ela were also on the same mission.

In any case, she suspected this trip up Mount Aspiring had less to do with combat readiness and more to do with keeping her and Brandon out of Paradise while the elven diaspora was arriving. Was Elrond afraid his returning brethren would reject the presence of humans in their sanctuary? Ela agreed readily when Sophia floated her theory that they were being kept out, but either wasn't sure why or wasn't saying. Brandon was adamant that if Elanordis knew the reason, she would tell him. Sophia had pursed her lips and stared at him, while he flushed and stammered. She loved it that he was trying to hide the fact that he had a crush on Ela. It gave her so very much ammunition.

Speaking of ammunition, Sophia mused, the real reason she was up here freezing her nose off was probably just that her so-called grandfather was trying to keep her and Legolas as far apart as possible. She had hardly had a chance to talk to him since the incident in the medical clinic, let alone figure out what it all meant. Or kiss him again. She sighed.

"Watcha thinking about, Soph?" Elrohir asked her, falling in step next to her, fluttering his eyelashes at her.

"How long a week can be when you're stuck on a mountain with an Elf," she retorted.

Elrohir pantomimed being shot and clasped his hands to his heart. Sophia chuckled at him.

"At least they let us have tents this time," a dark-haired ellon named Maethorion said. "Last time we did this, we had nothing - no food, no shelter, no phones."

"But were you Naked and Afraid?" Brandon asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Maethorion asked, nearly losing his footing in the scree.

"I love that show!" Elrohir broke in. "Did you see the one where the woman got sick and had to leave, and the guy said he'd learned the language of the spiders? That was so funny!"

"Wait," Bellasiel, another trainee, broke in, "do you mean to tell me there is a show about naked people camping?"

"Oh, yes," Elrohir answered enthusiastically. "Two naked strangers, one male and one female, get dropped off in the wilderness with one tool each and they have to survive for 21 days."

"Ewwww," Bellasiel exclaimed, her already pale features blanching.

"I can't believe you watch that human filth," Galion grumbled.

"Oh, come now, Galion," Elrohir said lightly, though Sophia could sense an edge in his voice, "I bet you have a secret television in a dark room under your house where you spend hours a day crying over telenova." Brandon tried unsuccessfully to suppress a laugh, which emerged as a loud snort.

"I do not cry," Galion snapped, glaring at the smiling ellon. "And I neither know nor care what telenova is. I have never watched one of those foul things, and I never will."

"Then you don't know what you're missing," Elrohir observed, "as usual."

"Alright, alright you two," Elanordis broke in, "peace. It's almost time to make camp, so we should be concentrating on finding a good spot. Right, Elrohir?"

"Right you are, Starsun," he answered cheerfully.

"Starsun?" Sophia said under her breath.

"It's what "Elanordis" means," Brandon whispered back.

"You do know there's no point in whispering, right?" Elrohir grinned at them. "We can totally hear you."

Sophia whispered something very rude.

Elrohir guffawed. "I don't think I'm capable of that," he said.

"Okay, that's quite enough, thank you," an ellyth named Methenniel snapped. She was a friend of Galion's, and Brandon and Sophia took great pleasure in referring to her as "Meth."

"Apologies, Meth," Sophia smiled. "I meant no offense." Brandon snickered.

"Methenniel," she said angrily. "Say it correctly. You do not have the right to give me an epesse."

"But Methmetal is so very hard for a human to say," Sophia answered sweetly. "I had hoped you would prefer "Meth" to our just mangling your beautiful name."

"Fine," she cried, throwing her hands up. "If that is all your limited capacities can manage, then fine. But it is not an epesse, is that clear?"

"Crystal, Meth," Sophia said with satisfaction, as every elf who had been out in the world in the last twenty years struggled not to laugh out loud.

"I think this looks like a good spot," Elanordis prompted Elrohir, who was their team lead, at least nominally. Much to the irritation of Galion and Methenniel, Sophia was his second, and he frequently deferred to her.

"What say you, Deputy Dog?" Elrohir prompted.

She looked around uneasily. They were in a sort of clearing, which was relatively flat, and a rock wall, with a mountainside above; the cliff provided ample shelter. Finally, she shook her head.

"No, I don't think so."

"What?" Galion said sharply. "This is the best spot we've seen all day! Or have you simply not been paying attention?"

Sophia looked at him without expression. "That cliff will give us shelter," she said quietly, "but it would also give an adversary a way to approach us without being seen."

Galion snorted, and Methenniel crossed her arms, her teeth showing in the least mirthful smile Sophia had ever seen. "You do know this is just a training exercise, right?" she said scornfully. "I mean, really. What are you scared of? Feral pigs? Because there isn't much else up here."

"No, she's right," Maethorion interrupted. "Lord Glorfindel is always reminding us to train the way we would fight, and now we know we will soon face a real fight. Where do you think we should go, Sophia?"

Sophia shot him a grateful look. which he returned with a brief nod. Maethorion was older than everyone but Elrohir, and had actually fought in the War of the Ring as a young ellon. His support would carry weight with everyone in their company. In fact, even Galion didn't want to get on Maethorion's bad side.

"Brandon, you and Ela go north - see what you can find, but come back if you don't see anything within a mile. Maethorion, you and Meth go east for a mile. Galion, Bellasiel, northeast, please. Elrohir, stay here, and I'll scout up to the west with Valdaglerion."

"Hey, wait a minute," Methenniel exclaimed. "How come you can say "Valdaglerion", but you can't say "Methenniel"?"

"Good point. Come on, Val, let's go."

Valdaglerion, who was generally a reserved and watchful elf, with enormous blue-tinged grey eyes, hid a smile in his sleeve and began inspecting the rock face for a good spot to climb. Maethorion led the complaining ellyth away, offering soothing words.

"Well done," Elrohir murmured to Sophia, squeezing her shoulder.

"You okay here alone?" she asked anxiously, glancing up at Valdaglerion, who was already scrambling up the cliff wall.

"Of course," Elrohir snorted. "Worrywart." Then his expression became thoughtful as he saw Sophia rub the back of her neck. "Unless you think there's something to worry about?"

She shook her head slightly, though her eyes were darting around. She could see Valdaglerion waiting for her up on the ledge. "No, I guess not. I don't know."

"Tell me," he commanded, all traces of his easy smile and merry glint gone.

"It's this prickly feeling, like we're being watched. And not by something friendly. Maybe it's just traveling with Galion and Methenniel."

Elrohir nodded slowly, ignoring her attempt at humor. "You never know. But it's generally a good idea to listen to your instincts. I'll be on my guard. Go with Val, but not too far. I can tell you you won't find a good spot for us in that direction, but just take a look around, okay?"

She nodded and clasped his forearm before heading for the spot where Valdaglerion had climbed up, picking her way quickly to the top beside him.

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"We're just going to scout around - no need to look for a campsite up here."

"You climb very fast for a human."

"Yes," she agreed and started jogging carefully across the icy rock.

She saw a small twist to his lips, but he did not press her, and that made her feel guilty. There wasn't much she could do to convert Galion or Methenniel into being fans of humankind, but that didn't mean she had to make enemies of everyone else.

"I'm just used to it. I've been rock climbing since I was little," she relented. "Del - Glorfindel - actually taught me how when I was 8 years old." She saw his eyes widen a bit.

"He taught you personally?"

She nodded, and they ran in silence after that.

"Are we looking for anything in particular?" Val ventured, after long minutes over rocky, barren ground.

Sophia slowed to a walk, trying to mask her panting breaths. She still wasn't acclimated to the altitude, but she doubted her companion shared her struggles and didn't want to make her discomfort obvious.

"Not really," she answered lightly. "Just looking. You been up here before?"

He nodded, watching her silently.

"See anything out of the ordinary?"

"No," he answered, allowing a small smile to flicker across his lips, "but then, there's never been much to see. Just a lot of rocks."

"Okay," she huffed quietly, "let's head back."

"We should walk," he suddenly said, "so we can get a better look."

Sophia nodded, and then shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye. Had he noticed her distress? She supposed it was impossible that he wouldn't given that elves seemed to have such acute senses. His tone had not seemed patronizing, though, and she realized gratefully that he was trying to help.

"And I could get my breath back," she acknowledged ruefully.

"Even for elves," he said gravely, "altitude takes some getting used to."

They worked their way back down to the clearing to find Elrohir standing very still, his mouth in a firm line.

"Anything?" he asked.

Sophia shook her head. "No. You?"

"No," he said slowly, "but I agree with you - something is not quite right, here."

They waited uneasily for the teams to come back, and the news wasn't good. No one had found a suitable site, and the sun was now setting.

"We obviously will just have to camp here," Galion insisted, crossing his arms. "Unless you would prefer to walk through the night?"

Sophia took a deep breath, struggling to control her temper. They had already walked through the night before, when the moon was full, and both she and Brandon needed to sleep. Even some of the elves looked like they could use a break. But she inclined her head toward Elrohir, deciding to leave the decision to him.

"Alright. We'll stay here. But we're going to need the watch up on the cliff."

Half the company groaned at the thought of sitting in the icy wind up on the rocky bluff.

"No whining," Elrohir snapped into a shocked silence. "This is no longer a drill, so stop acting like children. We're not alone up here." The squad stared at him, speechless. "Now get busy setting up camp. Bellasiel and Brandon, up the cliff, please. First watch."

"Now?" Bellasiel said, startled.

Elrohir nodded grimly. "You can come down one at a time when the food's ready."

Valdaglerion quickly stepped forward to show them where the good handholds were. The rest of the squad moved quietly around the site, setting up the tents and a small campstove. Even Galion didn't say anything.

Once the food was ready, Bellasiel came down from the cliffside and joined them. Still, no one spoke, and they all eyed each other apprehensively. Ela finally rummaged around in her pack and pulled out a small flute. She raised her eyebrows at Elrohir, who hesitated, but then nodded, and she began to play.

Sophia leaned back on her elbows, listening drowsily. She didn't recognize the tune, but she somehow knew it was a song about spring, about leaves uncurling on trees, birds flying free on the warming air, and flowers shouldering their way out of thawing ground.

Bellasiel returned up the cliff and Brandon came down, tucking into the hare they saved for him. Maethorian and Methenniel had brought two back with them from the scouting mission, so even if they didn't find safer ground, at least they found dinner.

Ela's tune changed, something with a faster tempo, and much to Sophia's surprise, Galion began to sing. Even more surprising, he sang in a mellow, rich tenor, nearly worthy of Pavarotti. Possibly the only pleasant thing about him, she thought, glancing at Elrohir next to her, who smirked.

"Did I say that out loud?" she murmured.

"You didn't have to," he whispered back, laughing quietly.

But his laughter died in his throat, and he froze, his head tilting to one side and his hand going to his sword. She noticed that Maethorion also had gone still and appeared to hear something, one hand snaking out to the bow next to him. Sophia listened intently, gasping as a scream suddenly rent the air. Ela dropped her flute and everyone around the fire snapped their eyes up to the cliff edge, only to see Bellasiel silhouetted against the night sky briefly before falling, all but landing at their feet. Her eyes were open in frozen terror, and there was a crude, black arrow piercing her throat, several more embedded in her torso.

"Orcs!" Elrohir shouted as dark shapes began dropping down off the rock face and into the campsite.

Sophia drew out her sword, immediately blocking a thrust from a charging orc. She had forgotten how ugly they were, with their pitted gray skin, mossy, pointed teeth, and blood red eyes. A smell like rotting garbage rose up off their flesh. The thing screeched at her and pressed forward. She thrust at it, ripping up into its abdomen, and it sank screaming to the ground, foul-smelling viscera spilling between its fingers. She hardly had time to register what she had done when two more were upon her, and suddenly time seemed suspended as she slashed and ducked. She knew there were screams, grunts, and shouts all around her, and a terrible stench of blood and torn flesh, but it all seemed to be happening in some kind of bizarre dream, slow and surreal.

And the orcs just kept coming.

At one point, she realized that she had been pushed to the outer edge of the clearing, almost as though she were caught in a rip tide. And she was back to back with someone else. She glanced around and was startled to see Methenniel behind her, armed with both a long and a short sword.

"On your right, Meth!" she cried out, just as an Orc came under the elleth's defenses. Methenniel chopped at it savagely, nearly decapitating the beast. Then she turned and threw her short blade at an Uruk Hai charging toward Sophia, the blade smacking into the beast's forehead. There was no time for more than a bare nod before they both were engaged once again.

Sophia glanced up a few minutes later and saw to her dismay that Brandon and Ela were trapped up against the cliff face across the clearing, surrounded by at least a dozen orcs.

"Over there!" she shouted to Methenniel, jerking her shoulder toward her brother.

They started trying to fight toward the embattled pair, but the surging tide of Orcs pushed them back.

"We're not going to make it!" Methenniel shouted, a hysterical tinge to her voice.

Just then, Sophia saw a flash in the corner of her eyes and gasped. Elrohir was cutting through orcs so fast, his sword glittered in the waning moonlight. He was working his way quickly toward Brandon and Ela, and Sophia breathed a sigh of relief.

It was difficult to say if it was the sigh itself that distracted her, or the incongruous feeling of relief, but she refocused on the fight in front of her just in time to see a pike axe sweeping towards her knees. If she jumped out of the way, the blade would catch Methenniel instead, who would never even see it coming. She frantically brought her sword around to block, knowing it would not be enough.

Just then, the axe clattered to the ground, smacking her painfully on her toes, and the Orc holding it fell almost on top of her. As she pushed it away, she saw two arrows in its neck and one buried deeply through the arm joint in its armor and into its chest. She glanced up and saw Maethorian across the clearing with his bow up. But there was no time to register that she knew he had likely saved her life, or at least her legs. The next foul beast was screaming toward her.

Methenniel and Sophia kept pushing toward the others, gradually making their way from the far side of the clearing. Sophia glanced up at Elrohir again, awed by what she saw. He was whirling with inhuman speed, and orcs were falling to his blade like mown grass before a scythe. She and Methenniel continued to fight back to back, but they made sure to give the experienced warrior room to move.

"Sophia," he shouted at her. "There's too many of them! You need to run - I'll cover you!"

"Absolutely not!" she shouted back. "I'm not leaving you here!"

"You need to lead the squad out - you need to go!"

Elrohir, distracted by his effort to convince her, did not at first see the arrow speeding toward him, and by the time he did, it was too late to knock it away. It caught him in the chest, and he staggered to his knees, barely deflecting a sword thrust, and failing to catch the next, which came from behind him, slicing across his spine, from shoulder to waist.

"No!" Sophia screamed, and a bright silvery, white light tore loose from her body, flinging orcs right and left. Her teammates were now under a glimmering dome, all but Brandon looking around in confusion. Sophia raced to Elrohir's side, aware that the rest of the squad was gathering around him, too.

"Elroy," she gasped, reverting to the name she had called him as a child. She kneeled down and put her hand under his neck. Ela crouched on his other side, holding his hand, with Brandon next to her.

"Good work... With the ring..." he wheezed. "Might not hold... Might not just be orcs here... You need to run." He coughed, and blood bubbled up between his lips.

"No," she insisted, her eyes blurring with tears, "I will not leave you here to die."

"Already dead, Sophie," he whispered, and then grabbed her hands in a crushing grip, with the last of his strength. "Promise me... Promise me you won't let Elladan fade. Tell him...remind him...that I will see him soon." His grip slackened, and his eyes went vacant.

"Elrohir," she sobbed. Brandon held Elanordis in his arms as she wept on his shoulder.

"Sophia," Maethorian said, gently putting his hands on her shoulders, "he's gone. If you can't hold this shield until morning, we need to go. There will be time to grieve when we're safely away."

"Soph," Brandon said, looking at her anxiously. She glanced at him miserably and saw with a shock that he was injured. His right arm was around Ela, but his left arm hung uselessly at his side. His jacket was covered in blood and his face pale in the flickering white light. "We have to go," he urged her.

Sophia nodded, gently disengaging her hand from Elrohir's. She kissed him on the brow, and then removed his pack, knowing it would have personal items in it that Elladan and Elrond would want to have. Someone reached for it, and she was surprised to see it was Galion shouldering the pack. He, too, had tears running down his cheeks.

"Okay," she said, rubbing her bloody palms on her jeans, "let's go. Carefully." They could all see the orcs still teeming like a swarm of bees beyond the edge of the dome, as they started moving toward the trail.

"Wait," Brandon exclaimed. "Soph, we need to expose them to the Silmarils."

"Don't you think that's risky?" Valdaglerion asked, brow wrinkled and hair matted with blood.

Brandon shrugged. "Probably. But it may be the best way to divide their ranks, in case Sophie can't hold the shield long enough." They all murmured agreement, and the siblings took out the stones.

Beyond the circle of light, the orcs suddenly stilled, and the wary group could see they were all staring, trying to get a good look at the Silmarils.

"Okay," Sophia said, "let's start moving."

They had barely reached the trail when Sophia felt a sudden, unbearable pressure, like a sonic boom, and the dome shuddered. She gritted her teeth and poured all of her will into maintaining the shield. She stumbled on the path, Valdaglerion catching her by the elbow and supporting her.

"I think you'd better put the stones away," Ela breathed.

Another burst of pressure hit the shield, and Sophia cried out as the recoil slammed painfully into her mind. The light flickered dangerously, but Sophia screamed in frustration and brought it back.

"Run! Now!" she cried.

The shield collapsed with the third assault, and Maethorian, bringing up the rear, was immediately brought down in a hail of arrows. The rest of the squad quickly grouped around him, facing outward. Galion let out a wild shout of rage, which the others took up, and the night rang with the clanging of blades. Even as it became clear that they were vastly outnumbered, and whatever the Silmarils may have done, it wasn't happening yet, they fought on ferociously.

Sophia knew it was absurd, but a sudden surge of pride buoyed her up. She realized it was very likely they were all about to die on this mountain, despite that stupid prophecy, but her team was magnificent in the face of death. There was no trace of despair, no blame, no division between them anymore, nothing but righteous fury for their fallen comrades, for each other, and for a future none of them expected to see. Not in this lifetime.

Suddenly, she heard Legolas speak in her mind.

_We are coming_, he said.

_You will be too late_, she thought back. She could feel the pulse of his despair, beating in her own heart.

It is not too late, another voice echoed in her mind. I will not let him take you, the low, feminine voice growled.

Just then, a searingly bright golden light flashed all around them, and they all had little choice but to clamp their eyes shut and cover their faces as best they could.

The light quickly faded, and they all blinked into the darkness, swords and knives up. But there was no sign of the orcs now. A woman in a white dress, with her long, dark hair moving as if in a gentle breeze, stood before them instead.

"Melian?" Brandon squeaked. "Is that you?"

"Yes, dear one." The elves in their party fell to their knees. "Arise, all of you. The beasts will not bother you anymore. Not tonight. But they are not the biggest threat here. It would be best if we got off this mountain as quickly as possible. Can you all walk?"

They took stock, and while they were all injured to some degree, only Maethorian, who was alive but gravely wounded, would be unable to move under his own power. Melian crouched over him, murmuring some words and passing her hands over his body.

"That will at least stop the bleeding, but he will need to be carried. Galion, Valdaglerion, are you able to do so?" Both elves nodded.

"We need to go back for Elrohir and Bellsiel," Sophia suddenly said. "We can't leave them here."

"They are already in the Halls of Mandos, my child," Melian said gently. "And carrying their empty hroa would put all of these other lives at risk. We must leave them. Come," she commanded, holding a hand out for Sophia.

Sophia clenched her eyes shut and slammed her fists into her thighs, but she moved toward the Maia's outstretched hand nonetheless, and they all followed as quickly as they were able down the mountain, Melian guarding them from the rear.

They had not gotten far, slipping and stumbling down the path, with Melian helping as best she could, when they heard a strange buzzing sound. It was steadily growing louder.

"Sophia!" Brandon cried. "You have to use the ring again! Quickly, or we're all dead!" Even Melian looked at him uncomprehendingly, but Sophia didn't question him. She concentrated, but all she could manage was a shivery flicker. Then Melian strode to her side and grabbed her hand, and the light flared, pulsing upward in an almost solid wall of silver and gold. As they held the shield, there suddenly came a pelting sound, as though it were hailing. Sophia didn't look up, concentrating instead on maintaining the light.

"Can you expand it?" Brandon called out. "Or send out some kind of pulse?"

Melian nodded, and holding Sophia's eyes with her own, she sent sheets of light wafting outward. After a few, achingly long minutes, the rattling sound grew louder, as though the hail had turned to rocks, and they could see the small metal pellets dropping onto the shield and sliding down to the ground. Soon, the racket stopped altogether, and Melian told Sophia that she thought it was safe to drop the shield for now. But her words seemed to be wrapped in cotton wool, coming from a long way away. Sophia heard her brother call her name again, and then heard no more.


	17. Chapter 17

_**We made a posting error, back in the chapter 12-13 area - a whole chapter was missing! We think it's all fixed now... Hope you enjoy - we intend to keep this at a K+ rating, by the way, so even though this chapter hints at some naughty bits, we aren't going to be explicit. Not our thing, sorry. Welcome your R&amp;R...**_

Sophia woke up slowly, her consciousness unfurling like a bloom opening to the sun. She blinked her eyes against the light, gradually realizing that she was lying on something soft.

"You're awake," someone murmured.

"Where am I?"

"Infirmary, back in Paradise," she now recognized Brandon's voice, as he leaned over her, taking hold of her hand. She looked at him, not understanding how she came to be in a warm bed at the bottom of the mountain.

"You passed out," he explained. "Legolas came with grandfather, Glorfindel, and Celeborn in the helicopters to get us."

"Helicopters? How did they land? And who's Celeborn?"

Brandon chuckled. "I know you're feeling better when you start asking too many questions. They didn't land; they sent down a basket and lifted us up one-by-one. And Celeborn is...well...he's an elf. Remember Galadriel from the movies?" Sophia nodded. "He's her husband."

"Is she here, too?" Sophia asked, eyes widening, but Brandon shook his head.

"She went to Valinor thousands of years ago. But he stayed behind. He's been living in Paris for a long time, but he's here now."

"Oh." Sophia looked at her brother anxiously, noticing that his arm was in a sling.

"I'll be okay," he reassured her. "It's not even broken, and only 15 stitches. I'll be out of the sling in no time. Maethorian is just in the next room over from you - they've mostly healed him, but he needs to stay in bed for the rest of the day. He had some internal damage, and they want to keep an eye on him. Everyone else is fine - cuts and bruises, a couple of sprains, but nothing that's too much trouble for an elf. Other than me, only Valdeglerion actually needed stitches - 35 sutures in his scalp, if you can believe it. How he managed to keep walking is beyond me. Oh, and Meth's nose was broken, but they've already healed it. They all want to come and see you," he finished, looking at her closely, "once you're feeling up to it."

Sophia sat up experimentally and stretched her arms. "I feel fine, actually," she noted in surprise. "Just tired, a little achy. What happened?"

"Melian said you drained your energy. You'll be fine with a little rest."

Sophia nodded. "Where is she?"

Brandon looked down at his fingernails. "She went back up the mountain as soon as the sun rose, with Legolas, Celeborn, and a few others..."

"Oh," Sophia said, tears gathering in her eyes as she realized that they must have gone to get the bodies. She looked away from her brother.

"It's not your fault," he said gently. "Don't you dare take this one on yourself."

"I knew we shouldn't have camped there," she whispered. "I knew it, and I caved! I put us all in danger. And then I wouldn't listen to him, and he looked away. That arrow... that wouldn't have happened..."

"It wouldn't have happened if there were no orcs on the mountain," he said, more sternly this time. "Don't kid yourself, Soph. They were going to get us, no matter what we did. And Melian said they had orders to catch you and me alive and kill everyone else."

"They did?"

"They did, indeed," came a voice from the doorway, and Sophia looked up to see Elrond standing there, exhaustion evident in every line of his face.

Sophia made an inarticulate exclamation at the sight of her grandfather, and began to cry in earnest.

"I am so sorry!" She gasped between sobs. "I got him killed."

Elrond was instantly at her bedside, taking her in his arms. "You are not to say such a thing, my daughter," he crooned, holding her tightly to his chest. "You demean his memory. My son was one of the bravest people I ever knew, and he would not want you taking responsibility for this. He knew what he was doing."

"He told me," she hiccuped, "that we had to make sure Elladan wouldn't fade. To remind him that he would see him soon. I don't know what he meant by that."

Elrond looked at her, eyebrows up. "He said that?"

Sophia nodded against her grandfather's chest.

"There's another prophecy," Elrond started slowly, "Other than the one that mentions you. The Second Prophecy of Mandos says that when the end comes, if the Silmarils are restored to Valinor, it will awaken all of the elves who ever lived, and if the Silmarils are then brought to where the two trees of light once stood, it will summon the Valar."

"Yes," came another voice from the doorway. It was Melian, now looking more like the ranger they first knew her as, wearing cargo pants and a sweater, her hair up under a cap. "That is why Melkor attempted to take the Silmarils from you last night."

There was a stunned silence.

"We brought back your son," Melian said gently to Elrond. "Elladan is with him now, down the hall."

Elrond nodded, gave Sophia a squeeze and kissed her on the forehead, before rising and leaving the room.

"I do not wish to hear you blame yourself again," Melian said to Sophia, once Elrond had left. "I do not wish to even hear that in your thoughts. It would be self indulgent, and you are not to allow yourself such weakness. Elrohir will not be the last person you love who will fall in battle, but we are all doomed if you cannot be strong. Do you understand?"

Sophia looked at Melian, wide-eyed, for the Maia stood wreathed in a red-tinged radiance, her eyes blank with a glowing light.

"I understand," Sophia choked out.

"Good," she responded, and the angry light around her faded.

"Melian," Brandon said tentatively, "if Melkor was there, how were we able to get away at all?"

"He was not there," she answered. "Not entirely. He had sent Acharnor looking for you with the Orcs, but his essence was elsewhere. When he realized they had found you and that you had the Silmarils - and it is interesting, mind you, that he was not already aware you had them - he sent a piece of his consciousness to attempt to catch you. That is how I was able to intercede with relative ease. And do not worry: even at full strength, he cannot reach you in Paradise. Although the defenses here will not be able to hold against him indefinitely, should he choose to focus his assault here. But I do not believe he will do that."

She stood in silence for a moment, and then strode to the bedside, smoothing Sophia's hair away from her face. "It was only the first of many battles to come, I'm afraid," she sighed, "but you both fought so well. I am very proud of you." Sophia smiled weakly at Melian, who raised her head a little, as though she were listening to a far-off sound.

"I shall leave you now. I believe there are others who wish to see you, as well. We shall speak later." Melian rose fluidly and glided from the room before either sibling could say anything.

A few moments later, Valdaglerion peeked into the door. "Sophia?" he said tentatively. "May we come in?"

At her nod, Methenniel, Valdaglerion, and Galion entered the room. Elanordis was right behind them, pushing Maethorian in a wheelchair.

"Hey," Sophia exclaimed, pointing a finger at Maethorian, who looked awful. His face was gray with fatigue, and he had dark circles under his eyes. "I thought you weren't allowed to get out of bed!"

The elves all chuckled, and Maethorian rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me," he commented wryly. "Or at least don't remind the healers."

They all chuckled again, and then fell into an uncomfortable silence. Galion, unexpectedly, was the first to break it.

"I am so sorry," he said, crossing to the bed and placing a hand awkwardly on Sophia's shoulder. "It's all my fault. I should have listened to you about the campsite."

Sophia shook her head vehemently, and covered his hand with her own. "No. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. They would have attacked us wherever we camped. Anyway, don't let Melian hear you say it's your fault - I thought she was going to blast me for saying that a few minutes ago."

"It definitely wasn't your fault," Maethorian said softly.

She nodded, but couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"I keep wondering if I missed something when we went up the mountain," Valdaglerion said, biting his lip. "How could there have been so many, without any sign of them?"

"I don't know," Sophia said softly.

"Did someone tell Bellasiel's family?" Brandon asked.

"They left for Valinor centuries ago," Methenniel answered quietly, eyes shining. "She was such a lovely ellyth." Methenniel started to cry, and Galion held out his hand to her, pulling her into an embrace.

"You were all amazing up there," Sophia finally said softly. "I cannot imagine a finer team, a braver group of warriors. Thank you for saving my life, Maethorian. You too, Methenniel."

"We all saved each other," Maethorian smiled at her, nodding. "I've fought orcs before, and I can tell you, I've never seen any group of elves - or mortals - take such a stand."

They sat together for the rest of the afternoon, talking over the battle, remembering Elrohir's terrible jokes and Bellasiel's sweet nature. Everyone laughed and cried, comforted by the intense bond of warriors, one that can only be forged in the heat of combat and the weight of loss.

"Hey, Brandon," Valdaglerion said, turning his thoughtful face toward the young human. "How did you know what to do about those little bullets, or whatever they were?"

"The drones?" he asked, and Valdaglerion shrugged, as if to say, how would I know? "They've been attacking your people for months, but they were stopped at a colony near Vancouver. The only explanation I could find was that there was an episode of northern lights the day of the attack, and I knew Sophia's ring stopped the other bio-mechs, so I figured they were vulnerable to electromagnetism, and that must be what the ring's power is made up of."

"Ummm," Methenniel said, mouth open. The others were looking at him blankly.

Brandon flushed, and Elanordis saved him.

"That's brilliant!" she enthused. "You figured out that the ring would fry them!"

If anything, his flush deepened. "It was just a guess, really," he muttered, and everyone cracked up.

Finally, one of the healers came in looking for Maethorian, scolding them all for tiring her patients. As they obediently left the room, Galion turned back. "I am sorry," he said. "Not so much because I feel responsible for what happened, but because I feel irresponsible for the way I treated you both. I cannot promise you that I will come to like all humans, but I hope we at least can be friends."

"I don't even like all humans," Brandon said diplomatically.

Sophia smiled brightly at him. "And I've probably said a few things I should apologize for myself, so how about a clean slate? And tell Methenniel that we are going to call her by her full name from now on. We can actually say it just fine."

He returned the smile. "I rather think she likes being called Meth - no one's ever thought to give her an epesse before," he noted. "Though I have a feeling it means something inappropriate, in human terms." They could hear him chuckling as he walked away down the hall.

Sophia suddenly gave a huge yawn.

"Why don't I let you rest some more?" Brandon said fondly.

She nodded wearily, giving him a sad smile.

"I'll be right here if you need me," he added, sitting in the chair next to her bed and picking up a heavy tome awkwardly with one hand.

The next time Sophia woke up, gasping as she emerged from chaotic dreams of dead eyes and viscera spewing between fingers, it was dark out, and it was not Brandon who sat next to the bed.

"Hi," she said shyly, as Legolas rose to his feet, his forehead wrinkled in concern.

"Hi," he responded, taking her hand. "How do you feel?"

"Good. Fine. How about you?" she winced at the inanity of the question.

"I'm fine," he answered, but as she looked at him more closely, she thought maybe it was a good question after all. His hair was a bit disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled, and there were fine lines of fatigue radiating out from the corners of his eyes.

"You sure about that?" She asked.

He glanced up at the door. "Just a minute," he said, crossing the room. He carefully closed the door and locked it. "Move over," he said, after returning to her bedside.

Heart racing, Sophia made room for him. He kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers, pulling her into his arms.

"I was worried about you," he whispered, running his finger along her face. "You thought you were going to die."

"I knew I was going to die," she corrected him. "I'm still not entirely sure I'm alive, actually."

He leaned over and kissed her gently, his hand slipping back into her hair.

"Are you sure now?" he murmured.

She nodded, a little breathless and not trusting herself to speak. "Pretty sure," she finally croaked, "but I might need some more convincing."

He laughed quietly and quickly obliged her, kissing her again. When he pulled back, she looked up into his face.

"I forgot you would be able to tell we were in trouble," she whispered apologetically, winding her hands around his neck.

"For all the good it did," he said with some bitterness, pulling her close against him. "We would not have been in time to help you."

"Can I talk to you, you know, in your mind, the way you did to me?"

He pressed his lips against her forehead before answering. "Well, you did, as a matter of fact. We seem to be somewhat attuned to each other already, which is unusual. Generally, that should only be possible when the bond between us is formalized."

"Formalized?" She asked.

"Um," he answered, burying his face in her hair. "Well, we, uh, we would have to..."

"Oh," Sophia interrupted, her face growing hot. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

He leaned back and smiled at her. "Me, either."

"Wow. Elves really are different from men, then."

"Ha, ha," he said dryly. "Sophie," he started slowly, as though he were searching for the right words, "this bond is eternal - there's no divorce with elves. And we really will be able to hear each other's thoughts and feel each other's emotions, far more than we do now. I don't doubt that we are meant to be together, but it would be best if we knew each other better before we took such a step."

"Oh," she squeaked, "okay."

"And there's one more thing..." he hesitated, and she nudged him with her chin. "Everyone will know when we do. Elves, at any rate."

Sophia stared up at him, eyes wide. "Well, that's embarrassing," she muttered.

He leaned in and kissed her again, slowly this time, an unhurried exploration, his hands running lightly across her back and shoulders, down the curve of her waist.

"Will you...will you stay with me?" she asked, breaking off the kiss. "I mean, unless there's somewhere else you need to be?"

"This is where I need to be," he assured her, eyes shining in the dark.

Sometime later, they were startled awake by a knock on the door.

"Oh crap," Legolas hissed. "I fell asleep. It's morning." They both jumped up.

"Sophia?" the voice behind the door called.

"It's Glorfindel!" she whispered.

"Are you alright? Why is the door locked?"

From the frantic scrambling sounds on the other side of the door, Glorfindel was pretty sure he knew exactly why it was locked. _This should be entertaining_, he thought.

"Coming!" Sophia called out.

Glorfindel was not surprised that Legolas had finally snapped where Sophia was concerned. The woodland elf had been nearly catatonic in the helicopter ride up the mountain when he had thought he was going to lose her, and once they had gotten her aboard, he had cradled her in his arms and would not let anyone else touch her. Glorfindel had noticed with great interest that Brandon had appeared to be neither distressed by his mentor's sudden possessiveness, nor surprised. Indeed, surely the only reason Legolas left her side at all was that Brandon told the elf how unwilling his sister had been to leave Elrohir and Bellasiel behind.

He heard the lock tumbling, and then the door flew open.

"Glorfindel!" Sophia exclaimed brightly. "What's up? Legolas and I were just, um, ah..." she trailed off, face red.

"Indeed," Glorfindel said dryly, strolling into the room. "I wanted to let you know that the funeral will be this morning in about two hours. Elrond wanted to come and tell you himself," he arched an eyebrow at her, "but I persuaded him that you would not mind if I delivered the news. He needs to concentrate on the preparations."

"Why so soon?" Sophia asked, breathing a sigh of relief that it was not her grandfather standing there. She thought she had disappointed him enough for now.

"Yes, well, that's the other thing I've come to tell you. We have an emergency leadership meeting this afternoon, and you will be expected to attend. Both of you," he flicked a glance up at Legolas, who was standing nervously across the room.

"Why?" Sophia asked, crossing her arms.

"You will find out soon enough," Glorfindel responded, his face still. "In the meantime, you should prepare for the funeral." He turned to go, hesitated, and then faced them again, one corner of his mouth lifted in what was undeniably a smirk.

"And allow me to be the first to congratulate you both."

"For what?" Legolas answered warily.

"For completing your bond."

"But we didn't... we aren't..." Sophia hurriedly said, and Glorfindel noticed with great satisfaction that he could still make Legolas blush. He made a big show of peering more closely at them both, as they fidgeted under his gaze.

"My mistake. But for what it's worth, you're already a long way down that road and might want to consider finishing the journey sooner rather than later," he smirked again before striding out the door, closing it behind him.

"Journey?" Sophia said, frowning and planting her fists on her hips. "What the hell was he talking about?"

"This is going to be a long day," Legolas sighed. "Apparently, we already read as bonded. You see, this doesn't happen all that often these days, so it's cause for great celebration, and they're all going to make a big deal out of it. Elrohir will never let me hear the end of this."

Sophia gasped, and Legolas shook his head as he realized what he had just said.

"Ai, Elbereth," he whispered, sinking into the chair next to the bed and putting his head in his hands. Even as he had carried Elrohir's body away from a battleground soaked in his blood, Legolas had been so distracted by his worry for Sophia that he had not really focused on his feelings about Elrohir. Now, the reality of losing his best friend, whom he had known his whole life, slammed into him full force, nearly choking him. "I can't believe I forgot," he said out loud. "No. No, I can't believe he's really gone."

He realized he needed to get a grip on himself when he felt Sophia's anguish and guilt rippling through his own grief.

"Oh, Sophie," he said gently, peering through his fingers, "please don't feel that way. I know he was a joker, but he was also quite sensitive, and it would upset him greatly to know you felt at fault. If it hadn't been that arrow that caught him, something else would have. The orcs would have marked him out immediately as their greatest threat up there."

"He was amazing," she mumbled, as Legolas pushed his hands away from his face and held them out for her, pulling her down onto his lap. "I would have never thought that killing could be beautiful, but it was, he was, the way he fought up there was beautiful - and terrible."

"Show me," Legolas said softly. "Remember for me."

"Can...can I really do that?"

"Let's try, okay? I want to know what happened to him. Will you show me?"

Sophia closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his as she struggled to recall the nightmarish battle on the cold mountain. She remembered her shock at finding Methenniel at her back, then her fear at seeing Brandon and Ela surrounded, until she noticed Elrohir cutting through the Orcs to reach them. Then it washed over her, the relief she felt that her brother was protected, and again when Maethorian shot down the orc that threatened her. She saw Elrohir whirling in an elegant circle, destroying all within his reach to save his niece and Brandon. There was blood - so much blood. After that, the memories became less coherent. Flashes of a black arrow. A sword descending on Elrohir, as he knelt on the ground. More blood, but this time bubbling from his lips and covering her hands, encased in his. A kiss on the brow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as tears dropped down her face.

Legolas tightened his arms around her, gently wiping the tears away. "We will see him again soon," he whispered back.

"Do you really think that will happen?" Sophia asked doubtfully, pressing her lips to the side of his neck.

"I know it will," he responded softly, one hand on her back and the other caressing her face. He could not stop touching her, because every time he did, he felt the brush of her fea against his, a mingling of body, mind, and spirit that was like nothing he had experienced in all his many years. What's more, he knew, he could feel, that she was experiencing the same thing.

"We should go get ready. I'll see you back to your apartment," he said, voice husky.


	18. Chapter 18: Best Laid Plans

**_Reader 1 - awesome comment!_**

**Chapter 18: Best Laid Plans**

They buried Elrohir and Bellasiel next to each other under two enormous Kauri trees near the shore of a brilliant turquoise lake. There actually was a small cemetery in Paradise, where all the victims of the drone attacks were interred, but Elrohir himself had planted these two trees, more than three hundred years before. Kauri, which Sophia thought looked like something out of Dr. Seuss, ordinarily only grew on the North Island, but Elrohir had explained to his doubtful father that he needed their strong trunks and spreading canopy - for his hammock.

"You cannot expect me to take my rest under an ordinary tree, now can you?" he had said at the time.

And against the odds, the trees had flourished. More often than not, Elrohir was to be found there, stretched out in the hammock that now rocked forlorn in the gentle breeze.

Sophia stood, eyes downcast, listening to the eerie lament the elves sang to their fallen. Legolas was behind her, his arms around her, and she leaned against him, giving and taking comfort from the contact. Brandon was next to her, holding Elanordis's hand. All of the warriors who were with them that night on the mountain sto!od together around them in a tight knot.

The melody drifted away on the wind as Elrond, Elladan, Liriel, Elanordis and a tall silver-haired elf stepped forward to the grave. Earendil and Elwing, who had flown from Auckland for the funeral of the grandson they had never met, approached the grave, as well. They all kneeled, leaning forward and pressing their hands to the freshly-turned earth.

"They are leaving tokens," Legolas whispered, "something to comfort Elrohir with memories of them while he waits in the Halls of Mandos. We will all have the chance to leave something, if we wish."

Then a tall, dark-haired elleth came forward, followed by Methenniel and several others, kneeling over Bellasiel's grave.

"Her mother's cousin," Gallion murmured.

"Is Meth related, too?" Brandon asked softly.

Galion nodded. "Distantly," he said.

The ethereal keening started again, and Elanordis returned to Brandon, who held her as she wept, rubbing her back gently. Sophia glanced up and saw Elladan watching his daughter. When he turned his gaze to her, his eyes were burning with rage. She gasped.

"What?" Legolas whispered.

"It's Elladan," she replied.

Legolas stiffened as he looked at his friend, his arms falling away from Sophia.

"Uh oh," he muttered. _Try to keep out of his way,_ he thought at her urgently, _and Brandon, too. Tell him._

_What's wrong_?

_Everyone handles grief differently_, he sighed out loud, _and I fear Elladan is not going to handle his very well at all. Just give him some space, okay_?

Sophia nodded slightly.

As the crowd began to disperse, Sophia hugged Ela and gently suggested that Elrond might need her. Ela looked at her gratefully, kissed Brandon, and then slid through the mourners to find her family again.

"Let's go," Sophia said urgently to her brother, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the training compound.

"What's wrong?" Brandon asked her.

"Just come with me," she shot back, jogging toward the gym.

She peered into the weight room, and seeing that it was empty, breathed a sigh of relief. She led her brother in and sat him down on a bench.

"You didn't tell me you and Ela were together," she said softly.

Brandon flushed. "Well," he stammered, "we're not really. I mean not officially..."

Sophia just looked at him.

"Okay, well, maybe a little," he finally admitted. "I think I might be in love with her, Sophia," he said all in a rush. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows.

"Yeah, well, have you and Legolas talked about it?" He mimicked her facial expression, lifting his eyebrows.

Sophia chuckled. "I guess there's no hiding anything from each other, huh?"

"I've known for awhile," he said gently. "Probably before you did. And you should have seen how he acted when they came to get us on the mountain."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I can't help it - I have to be with him, you know?" Brandon nodded, and she smiled back as a pure joy seemed to light his eyes from within. "But honestly, Bran, I'm terrified. I don't want him to die because of me."

"I know," Brandon said softly, taking her hand. They sat in a comfortable silence, both relieved to have come clean.

"We never used to keep secrets from each other," he said wistfully.

"Well, we never really had any secrets to keep. Not from each other, anyway. But let's make sure we never do again, okay?" Sophia responded. "And, well, I don't know what to tell you about Ela, except that we may have a more immediate problem. You didn't see the way Elladan was looking at you just now when you were with her."

Brandon paled.

"'Hatred' might be too strong a word, but he is definitely pissed - at both of us. Legolas said we need to avoid him for now, okay?"

"That's not going to be easy," he warned, "especially if they say what I think they're going to say this afternoon."

"What's that?"

"That we're going to have to speed up the timeline for going to Valinor," he said softly.

"Well," Sophia responded, slapping her thighs and rising to her feet, "then we'd better go get some food while we still have our appetites. Why don't we just eat in our quarters today? I have plenty of food there."

Brandon agreed, and they set off toward the hillside, arm in arm, talking quietly.

Later that afternoon, they crossed the compound to a large glass and wood building, which rose above the marble structures around it in an undulating shape. This was the main office building for Paradise, where both Elrond and Glorfindel worked. The first floor had an enormous auditorium, which held a stage with seats on three sides, rising gently up toward the glass. The white wall behind the stage was interactive, and Sophia thought they would likely be showing some battle plans there today. She and Brandon were among the first arrivals, and Glorfindel gestured to them from the stage, where he was talking to the tallest elf Sophia had ever seen. He had his back to them, so she couldn't get a good look at him, but his bright silver hair, pulled back in a sleek pony tail, glinted and flashed in the light.

"Sophia, Brandon, I don't think you've had a chance to properly meet Celeborn yet," Glorfindel said, beckoning them forward. As the tall elf turned, Sophia recognized him from the funeral. He had knelt at Elrohir's grave with the family members.

"My lord," Brandon said, bowing deeply from the waist, "we met briefly when you rescued us on the mountain. Though Sophia, of course, would not remember."

Sophia looked at her brother, surprised at his deferential tone, but chose only to incline her head, forgetting to breathe once she met the ellon's eyes. They were wide and uncanny, as silver as his hair and standing out brightly against the nut brown of his skin. His build was not unlike that of other elves, long and lithe, but he also seemed somehow more solid, with a square jaw and shapely, full lips. Sophia stared at him, mouth open slightly, as he held out a hand, his long tapered fingers curling up slightly to meet hers.

"Very pleased to finally meet you," he said in a low, rich and lightly accented voice.

"Urgh," Sophia responded, blinking furiously with embarrassment at her inarticulate response.

Glorfindel chuckled. "Yes, Lord Celeborn has that affect on most females. And quite a few males, at that, so you are to be commended, Brandon, for keeping your wits about you."

Celeborn turned to Glorfindel, expressionless. "_Mon ami_, you remain sophomoric at any age, a predictable if not comforting constant." Celeborn turned back to Sophia, and bending over, pressed his lips lightly to her hand.

"_Charmant_, I am sure," he murmured.

_Oh please_, she heard Legolas snort, as she felt him approach the dais. _Do you want me to get you two a room_?

"Oh, shut up," she muttered.

Celeborn's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, no, no," she said hastily, "not you, Lord Celeborn. I'm honored to meet you. I was talking to Legolas."

At the mention of the wood elf's name, Celeborn's grave features lit up, and he glanced over Sophia's shoulder. "Ah, there you are, Legolas! I haven't really had a chance to catch up with you! It's been far too long since you have come to see me in Paris, _cher_. I know how much you enjoy your visits there," he gave Legolas a conspiratorial wink. Glorfindel burst out laughing at the discomfort on the younger elf's face.

"Ah, yes," Legolas said, clearing his throat and shooting a dirty look at Glorfindel, "it is good to see you again." He put one hand on Sophia's elbow as he spoke, and Celeborn's eyes instantly tracked the movement.

"Hmm," the regal elf mused. "Perhaps you will not be visiting Paris so soon, after all."

Elrond stepped up onto the stage, interrupting the banter. "I am sorry to say that none of us is likely to see Paris any time soon, father," he said to Celeborn.

Sophia looked between the two elves in confusion.

"He is married to _ma fille_, my daughter," Celeborn explained pleasantly.

"Won't you all sit down?" Elrond said politely, gesturing to the nearest chairs, right in front of the stage.

Celeborn smoothly captured Sophia's hand and tucked it up into his arm. "You and your brother must sit with me, tell me about yourselves," he said. "And perhaps you can explain to me how it is that you survived the attack on the mountain when my poor grandson did not."

Sophia froze.

"We owe him our lives," Brandon broke in smoothly, taking a seat to the left of Celeborn, who more or less deposited Sophia to his right.

"You can show him, Sophie," Legolas said quietly, from her other side.

She looked at him in surprise. "I thought I could only do that with you?"

Legolas flushed slightly as Celeborn shot him a curious look, but shook his head. "Celeborn is...unusual. He should be able to see, if you are willing to show him."

The tall silver lord held his hand out flat, and Sophia placed her hand in his.

"_Mon dieu_," he whispered, staring at her ring in shock, as if he had seen a ghost. "Nenya. How did you happen to come by that?"

"I gave it to her, nephew," a voice from behind them said, "as your wife gave it to me. She said to tell you she looks forward to seeing you soon."

"Your highness," Celeborn said, his face falling utterly still, as he rose fluidly to his feet and bowed to the former Queen of Doriath.

"Please, Celeborn," she said, holding up a hand, "as I reminded you yesterday on the mountain, it is a long time since I have been anyone's 'highness'. Just Melian now."

"I see. And did my wife provide you with any other messages, or items of power? The Elessar, perhaps?"

"I am afraid not, nephew," Melian replied gravely. "She is, as always, blessed with a great economy of words. And the Elessar remains lost to us. But Mithrandir did give me this." She held up her hand, and a silver ring exactly like the one on Sophia's finger sparkled there, only where Sophia's stone was white, this one was black.

Celeborn stared at the Maia's hand, and Sophia heard Legolas suck in a huge breath. Finally, Celeborn bowed his head and turned his attention back to Sophia. He stroked the ring on her finger gently, almost wistfully. "Hello, old friend," he murmured. "_Cherie_," he finally sighed, looking up at Sophia, "Will you share your memories with me now?"

Sophia nodded and closed her eyes.

She opened them slowly a few minutes later, a tear rolling down her cheek. Celeborn caught it deftly with his thumb and kissed her gently where the track lay.

"Thank you," he said simply. Then he looked at her more closely. "You loved him," he observed. "I could see it in your memories."

Sophia nodded, but was unable to speak.

"He helped raise us," Brandon explained. "We grew up with him."

"Ah, yes," Celeborn responded, "I had forgotten. Well, depending on what Melian has to tell us, perhaps we can all hope to see him soon." He patted her hand and then tucked it back under his arm, which she could tell annoyed Legolas, before putting his other arm around Brandon.

_I had no idea elves could be so possessive_, she thought at Legolas.

She could sense him rolling his eyes, but he also discreetly pressed his shoulder into hers, which sent a trill of nerves fluttering up and down her arm.

Sophia turned to look at him, and noticed abruptly that the room was nearly full. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces, waving at Valdaglerion up behind them near the top row, along with Galion and Methenniel. Maethorian was down in front, on the right side of the stage. Ela was sitting with her parents, also in the front, but across from Maethorian. Liriel was deep in conversation with the elf next to her, another very tall ellon, with reddish brown hair. Sophia frowned as she watched him, for there was something different about him. For one thing, he was the only elf she had ever seen who looked old. It was not that his hair was gray or his face wrinkled, he just looked weary and spent, like someone who had lived a long time in a nursing home.

"Who is that?" she asked Legolas, nodding toward the tired elf.

"That," Celeborn answered, before Legolas could respond, "is Maglor."

On Celeborn's other side, Brandon sat bolt upright in his seat. "Maglor?" he repeated.

Celeborn nodded. "You know who he is?"

"From the books," Brandon allowed. "I don't know how accurate they are."

"Very accurate," Celeborn said.

_He's the reason they didn't want you in Paradise right now_, Legolas thought. _It's a long story. I'll tell you later. But let me know if he approaches you or Brandon_.

Sophia nodded slightly.

Celeborn looked at her and then Legolas curiously. "You are able to communicate telepathically with each other," he observed, eyes widening. "You are bonded! I should have known from the way you acted on the helicopter," he said, stabbing a finger toward Legolas. A hush fell over the crowd nearest them, as elves curiously peered over at Celeborn to see who he was talking about.

"Let us get started," Elrond shouted out hastily, waiting briefly for a few stragglers to take their seats. "As you know, we have finally called you all to Gray Havens to prepare for the final battle. We have been seeing the signs for well over a century that Melkor was no longer completely contained in the void, and now we know for a fact he has finally and fully breached the Door of Night."

Elrond paused and waited for the murmuring to die down.

"We know Acharnor has gone over to his side, and perhaps others." There was a swell of voices again, but this time Elrond just raised his own voice over the noise. "Melkor has found a way to create orcs en masse and is fabricating entirely new weapons, about which we know little. There can be no doubt now. It is time; Dagor Dagorath is upon us. Indeed, the situation is swiftly becoming urgent. Lady Melian will explain."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," she said, descending to the stage. Many in the audience craned to get a look at the Maia, and the room buzzed with excitement. Perhaps aware of the impression she would make, Melian had changed back into the flowing white gown, her hair moving about her gently, as though she had her own private wind machine.

"As you all know by now, orcs attacked a training mission on Mount Aspiring two nights ago, with two fatalities. What most of you do not know is that the creatures were not alone; Melkor himself aided them."

Now the volume of the chattering broke free in gasps and cries, as elves sprang to their feet in anger or looked about fearfully

"Peace!" Melian called out, raising a hand, her eyes pulsing with white light. The crowd settled quickly. "It was only a small part of his essence that pursued the Numenorians and their elven host. He did not follow them here, nor would be able to for now. Our defenses will hold, and he is otherwise engaged."

She paused, and the red-tinged radiance began to glow around her.

"He has created a portal into Valinor and is holding it open. He has been sending Orcs through it - for days, possibly weeks, maybe even months. We cannot be sure. It is difficult, even for me, to travel back and forth, and I have been unable to check."

Now the room was completely silent.

"Our families!" an anguished elleth finally cried. Another, with dark hair and churning eyes, sprang to her feet. "What can we possibly do? We have no way to fight him! Modern weapons won't even work in Valinor!"

"We have something better," Melian answered, and her voice was so loud, Sophia felt it buzzing in her jawbone. "We have the Silmarils and the three rings of power." She gestured to Sophia and Brandon to come up to the stage, where Earendil joined them. They pulled the stones out of their boxes, and Earendil lifted his out from under his robes. Elrond, Vilya winking on his finger, stood by their side. The warm hum of the stones, intertwining with the force of the rings, swelled outward from the stage, saturating the entire room in light and energy.

Only a few of those gathered knew about the Silmarils, so the reaction was thunderous. Some elves rose to their feet, cheering and clapping, some shouted praises to Iluvatar, many bowed their heads and wept or prayed for strength. Still in his seat next to Liriel, Maglor merely stared, open-mouthed, as the jewels that had haunted all of his nightmares and every waking dream for millennia sparkled merrily just a few feet away from him. Then, he began to chuckle, and finally to laugh deep from his guts, helplessly wiping tears from his eyes. Glancing at him, Sophia thought perhaps he didn't look quite that old, after all.

"We leave for Valinor tomorrow," Glorfindel announced over the noise of the crowd. "So, settle down. I will now go over the war plans and the assignments, and we can break into groups for further details or to begin any necessary preparations. Then we will let you go to pack a few belongings - no more than one satchel each, please, along with your weapons and medical kits. You need not bother with guns or anything that requires mechanical power, electronics, or explosives, as they do not function well in Valinor. If that's all you brought with you, please see Maethorian in the armory. This evening, we invite you all to join us for a feast in the main hall, which will feature those delicacies of Middle Earth I know we will all miss. I general, I advise you to stay within the confines of Paradise, which is protected, and stay out of the hills, which apparently are not. Finally, I suggest you all try to get some rest tonight, for we can't be sure when you might rest again."

As the plan was briefed, Sophia and Brandon learned they were to travel with Earendil and Elwing on Vingilote, which was fully seaworthy again. It was unclear who else would be in their group. From the angry pulse of Legolas's thoughts, Sophia figured there was some strong disagreement on that score. She decided to stay out of it.

"What about Braichon?" she whispered to Earendil, who understood her well enough.

"I call him," Earendil reassured her, proudly holding up a cell phone. "We leave other boat. He be here soon."

Sophia smiled at the mariner. "Your English is amazing, grandfather."

He beamed at the compliment.

The arrival in Valinor was going to take place in stages, with initial scouts landing north and south of the main harbor at Alqualonde, since they could not be sure if any of the elven cities might already have fallen. Sophia was not the only one in the room who shivered at the thought. Although the elves of Middle Earth would do their best to help any besieged populations in Valinor, Glorfindel made it clear that was not their mission. The mission was to get the Silmarils safely to the city of Valmar, or rather, to a hill just outside of it. The hill, Ezellohar, was apparently where silver and gold trees had once stood, and Sophia made a mental note to ask Brandon later about the significance of the trees.

"Melkor will do everything he can to stop us," Glorfindel cautioned, as they gathered for a final briefing, "we are in for a very tough fight. The fight of our immortal lives." He lowered his head for a moment, and then looked up again at the crowd, speaking in a more intimate tone that had all in the room leaning forward to hear him.

"I know," he breathed, "that you all have loved ones there. Some you have not seen for thousands of years. My own wife and children were cut down in the First Age, and I do not know what has become of them. I do not know if they yet languish in the Halls of Mandos, or if they have returned to the Undying Lands. I yearn with all my soul to see them, as I have every day since our parting. But I also know that I cannot seek them out when we arrive in Valinor. Nor can any of you yield to the temptation to look for your families and your friends, unless you happen to see them joined in battle. We must stay focused!" His fist crashed down on the table as he growled out the last words, and everyone jumped. "If we do not return the stones to Ezellohar, then the world will fall to Melkor, and everything and everyone we love and cherish will be lost - forever."

The room was so still, Sophia wondered if anyone was even breathing anymore.

"Eru Iluvatar will always prevail," Elrond said softly, rising to stand next to Glorfindel and laying a hand on his arm. "Ultimately, Melkor will fail. But he can destroy us all, Arda and Aman, in the process. We are confident - confident - that if we return the Silmarils, the Valar will come and Eru will help us. But we will have to help ourselves first."

Melian stepped forward. "I will stand with the Eldar, now and always, and we will succeed together. I will not leave you this time to face him alone. I can promise you that," she said gravely, and Sophia noticed she was staring right at Celeborn, who showed no reaction. His face could have been carved of stone.

"Thank you, my lady," Elrond said, bowing to the Maia, who bowed back. "You should all go now and prepare yourselves. The feast will begin in two hours in the main hall, and the fields in front of the main hall. We will leave for Dunedin at first light. Ship captains and crew will fly ahead; all others will ride in motor coaches that will leave from in front of the Main Hall." He paused and bowed his head. "The Valar go with you all, and know you sleep tonight with Eru's blessings on you."

"Sounds as though we're all going away to summer camp," Sophia muttered to Brandon when she was sure no one else was paying attention to her.

He chuckled.

"You need to pack?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Nah. I don't have anything new, other than weapons. It's just that one backpack of stuff."

"Let's go see Maethorian in the armory, then," Brandon said thoughtfully. "I think I'd feel better if we brought a little equipment - camping gear, you know?"

She nodded. "Good idea. We can always ditch it when we get there if we don't need it."

Maethorian barely had time to nod at them as they peered in the wide armory doors; he was swarmed with anxious elves looking for pre-industrial age weaponry. He pointed the siblings in the direction of a quiet corner of the armory, and they rummaged through the shelves of tents, sleeping bags, and campstoves.

"Hey, there's even freeze dried food!" Brandon exclaimed, holding up a brightly colored package of powdered eggs.

"Eww," Sophia wrinkled her nose. "I'll never understand how you can eat that stuff."

Brandon shrugged and shoved several packs into a bag.

"Is it cold there?" Sophia asked, examining a winter-rated sleeping bag

"Definitely not," he smiled. "It's perfect - unchanging, sunny 75 degrees every day, with a light breeze. It does rain every few days, just to keep the plants green."

_Where are you_? Legolas whispered in her thoughts.

_Armory_, she thought back.

_Meet you at the Great Hall later, in the field, by the firepits_.

"Legolas is going to meet us later," she noted.

"You really can hear him in your mind?"

She nodded.

"Can you hear Ela?"

"No," he answered slowly, "not yet."

"Better hurry up, Romeo," she said with a wink.

"Maybe we should keep some secrets, after all," he commented, tossing a small tent at her.

"Speaking of secrets," she said, as they waved to Maethorian and headed for their rooms. "What's all this about these two trees?"

Brandon told her about Laurelin and Telperion, and how Melkor and Ungoliant had destroyed the celestial trees and nearly cast the entire world into darkness. He explained how the Silmarils came to be. Sophia took the stone out of her pocket and looked at it thoughtfully, running a finger along its facets. The shifting cool blues and purples were more than light or even energy, she realized; they were the force of life itself, a reflection of the power that brought living creatures into being on the Earth. Just a small piece, held captive by ambition.

"And this Feanor, he was Maglor's father?"

"Yes," Brandon sighed. "He caused a lot of trouble - he is directly or indirectly responsible for most of the wars elves fought against each other."

She frowned, and looked at the Silmaril again. "It's hard for me to believe that an evil person created this. It's all about happiness and love, you know?"

Brandon nodded. "I don't think he was evil," he said thoughtfully. "He was just driven, and that's not normal for an elf. He was smarter, stronger, more talented, and he wanted more than they wanted, and Melkor was able to twist that. It's what he does - he finds a weakness or a difference, and he corrupts it and perverts it."

Sophia nodded, slowly putting the stone away. "Why do you think we seem immune to the Silmarils? I mean, it makes me feel good to have it, even powerful, but I've never really thought of it as mine, not to keep. I wouldn't kill for it. And I'm pretty sure you wouldn't, either."

"Of course not," he snorted, and pursed his lips for a moment as he regarded his sister. "Maybe that's just not our weakness."

"Well, I know I have a weakness for elven wine, so let's go get to that feast before it's all gone."

Later that night, the siblings sat around a small firepit out on the lawn. Galion was singing softly while Methenniel played a guitar, Valdaglerion nodding along. Maethorian finally showed up long after they had all eaten, looking exhausted.

"I swear to all the Valar," he sighed, "you would think these folks had never seen a blade before."

"It will come back to them," Elanordis laughed, smiling down at Brandon, who lay with his head in her lap.

"Anything left?" Legolas asked, stretched out on the grass with Sophia in his arms.

"Barely," Maethorian winced. "Why? You don't need anything, do you?"

"Well," he allowed, "my bracers are a bit worn out, but it's not important."

"I happen to have an extra pair - graphene and mithril, no less. I'll get them for you in the morning."

"Excellent," Legolas responded happily, raising his glass to Maethorian.

"Well, isn't this a cozy scene," someone bit out. They all looked up startled, Galion's song dying on his lips. Methennial struck a discordant sound with her suddenly clumsy fingers before dropping the guitar altogether. It was Elladan, the flickering firelight throwing shadows across his face. He stood with his arms crossed, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You all look like you're having quite a party here," he said, his voice low and hard-edged. Liriel stood next to him, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot and watching her husband anxiously.

"Elladan," she said soothingly, putting a hand on his arm, which he shook off.

"Too bad my brother isn't here to celebrate with you. Oh, that's right, he's not here because you left him for dead. Nice to see you all got over it so fast."

No one noticed as Valdaglerion slipped away, casting a worried glance back over his shoulder.

"Dad..." Elanordis started, her eyes wide.

"You," he growled, "will come with me now. Now! And you," he all but shouted, pointing at Brandon, "will stay away from my daughter. Do you understand me? You are not to see her, not to talk to her, not to touch her. Or I swear, I will kill you myself."

"Elladan," Legolas leapt to his feet, squaring off with his friend, as Liriel gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" Elladan said, voice low, dropping one hand to the pommel of his sword. "And don't you take that tone with me, your majesty," his voice was all but dripping venom as his eyes slid past Legolas, briefly alighting on Sophia. "I told you not to swear oaths you couldn't keep."

"Wait," Sophia said, struggling to her feet. "What oaths? What are you talking about?"

"It's nothing," Legolas responded, not taking his eyes off Elladan. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

"Oh really?" Elladan hissed, and Liriel tried again to pull him back, but this time he pushed her away so hard she fell to her knees, and Elanordis quickly ran to her mother's side. "Did you tell her yet?"

"Elladan, no!" Liriel cried in anguish, but Elladan didn't even seem to hear her.

"Tell me what?" Sophia said, heart thundering in her chest.

"About your grandmother?" Legolas seemed paralyzed, staring at Elladan in horror. "He must really have a taste for the women in your family. It was quite a fling they had - she went around calling herself his queen, you know. Hope you don't think he actually cares about you, because it's all just about the prophecy. I'm surprised he didn't try to bed your brother, too."

Legolas turned around frantically. "Sophia..." he started.

She stood frozen, mouth open, staring at him. "Is it...Is it true?"

"No. No, of course not."

"I can tell you're lying - I can feel it radiating off of you!" she shouted at him.

"I'm not lying! It's... It's complicated, is all - I can explain..." he said, voice faltering, but Sophia backed away from him, her hands up.

"No..." she choked out. "No. Just...just leave me alone!" Legolas staggered as her emotions flooded him: anger, humiliation, grief, and finally and worst, disgust. Then, as if someone had turned a switch, he could no longer sense her feelings or her thoughts, and she turned and fled into the night.

Brandon cast a worried look at Elanordis, who was now being dragged away. "Go," she mouthed at him, and he ran after his sister. Elladan stormed off with his hand clamped around his daugher's arm, and his wife running after him, calling his name.

It was suddenly very quiet.

"Legolas?" Maethorian ventured, rising to a crouch in front of the stricken elf, but Legolas did not respond, or even move.

_It would be best if you stayed there_, Melian's rich voice flowed into his thoughts. _I will go after her._

_I can't hear her anymore_, he thought miserably back to the Maia. _It's like she's gone into the void_.

_You can't sense her at all_? Melian asked, sounding surprised.

_No_.

_Ah_, she whispered gently into his mind, _Now that is interesting, indeed. Do not worry yourself too much, dear one. She will see reason. And Elrond is with Elladan. Rest yourself, if you can_.

Legolas closed his eyes and bowed his head, before striding away without a word. He had only barely made it past the halo of firelight, however, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced numbly back to see Celeborn, glowing softly in the starlight.

"Let us have a drink together, _mon ami_," Celeborn said in a low voice, a tone that communicated that this was not truly a request.

"I would prefer to be alone," Legolas responded, looking away.

"Yes, I know," Celeborn answered evenly. "Which is why you will come with me now."

Legolas clenched his teeth, considering refusing and fleeing into the hills, before remembering that it was no longer a safe place for solitude. He exhaled loudly, shaking his head.

"Fine," he said, nodding to the imposing lord to lead the way. "But I do hope you have something stronger than elven wine."

"_Bien sur_," Celeborn chuckled lightly, "what do you take me for? There is a reason I have chosen to live in France, after all," he bantered, with a firm hand on Legolas's elbow. "It rather appeals to my Sindaran sensibilities. Elven wine is just so tame... so restrained...so Noldoran."

Legolas made his mouth stretch into a smile he did not feel.

"Well," he reasoned, "my father was quite fond of wine, as you know, including human vintages, so perhaps not all Sindaran sensibilities run the same."

"Blood will tell," Celeborn said dismissively, "and some of his is Noldor."

"He would certainly dispute that," Legolas responded, realizing belatedly that he might see his father for the first time in more than 2,000 years the next day. Unless Thranduil had already fallen to Melkor.

Celeborn, who was watching the younger elf closely, nodded shrewdly. "I will make certain to bring him a few bottles of a very fine human vintage tomorrow, then, for I am certain we will see him soon."

Legolas nodded numbly and allowed Celeborn to pull him along toward the elf lord's quarters.


	19. Chapter 19

_**FlyingMonkey - thanks for giving this a chance. Really appreciated the comment.**_

**Chapter 19: A Long Ride**

Sophia was sitting on the roof of the gym, knees drawn up and head ducked down. She tensed when she heard footfalls, but quickly realized it could only be Brandon. Elves moved with little or no sound.

He sat down next to her, peeling her hand away from her knees and lacing his fingers into hers.

"It was all a lot easier when it was just the two of us," he sighed.

"Not really," she responded, her voice muffled by her knees. "There was nothing easy about Jeannie."

"At least we outnumbered her."

Sophia raised her head slowly, and looked at her brother, dry eyed.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," she commented.

"Well, just don't aim at me, okay?"

"It's not funny."

"No," he agreed evenly. "It's not. I don't know what to do, Sophia," he admitted.

"About Ela?"

"About all of it."

She perched her chin on her knees and drew in a big breath, exhaling slowly.

"I think..." she started, "I think Elladan is just afraid. From what Elrond told us, Ela probably has a choice - she can be mortal, or immortal. He lost his sister that way, and now both his mother and brother to orcs, right? Yeah, he's scared. Can you imagine how short a human lifespan must seem to these guys? The thought that he could lose her for good in 70 years must be overwhelming."

The sat in silence for a few minutes.

"What about Legolas?" he finally asked, tentatively, giving her fingers a squeeze.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Maybe it's not the way Elladan said - he probably put it in the worst possible light."

"I really don't want to talk to you about it."

"Will you speak with me, then?" came a low voice from the shadows. Both siblings jumped as Melian emerged from the darkness, and then sat, cross-legged, next to them.

"No," Sophia finally said, chin jutting forward, "I don't want to talk to you, either."

Melian ignored Sophia and turned to Brandon. "My dear, before you go," she said pointedly, "I have something for you. Now would be a good time for you to have this." She held her hand out, and in the light of the stars and waning moon, they could see the ring shining on her palm.

"What?" Brandon stammered.

"It is yours. Take it."

"Oh, no, no," he said, dropping Sophia's hand and gesturing at the Maia. "I couldn't. No."

"You must," she said, her eyes glowing faintly, holding her hand closer to Brandon, who reached out, as if in a trance, and took the ring.

"Put it on," she commanded.

He did, and still looking dazed, held his fingers up and looked at the ring. He frowned.

"It's not black. The stone, I mean."

"No," Melian agreed. "It is red, albeit a very dark, deep red. This is Narya, the fire ring. It will give you some of the same powers of concealment as Nenya gives to Sophia, and it has an affinity with fire, so it will work well with the Silmaril you carry, just as with Nenya does with the other Silmaril. But it also allows the wearer to be resistant to tyranny and despair, which I believe suits you quite well. I know you will use it wisely in the days to come."

Brandon swallowed loudly, still staring at the ring.

"You should go," she said gently. "I believe Elanordis is expecting you."

Brandon finally tore his glance away from the ring to look at Melian, his mouth hanging open.

"But...but..."

"The ring will help conceal you both from her father, if need be, though I doubt he will come hunting for you. Elrond is with him now."

Brandon turned to look at his sister, who actually had a small smile on her face.

"Go," she said softly. "I'll be fine."

Brandon threw his arms around Sophia before springing up.

"Thank you," he said softly to Melian, "and not just for the ring." She inclined her head gracefully toward him.

"Why did you do that?" Sophia asked, once Brandon was out of earshot. "About Elanordis, I mean?"

"It is meant to be," Melian answered. "I have seen it."

"And I was not meant to be with Legolas?" Sophia said bitterly. "That's what you meant when you told me that Elrohir would not be last person I would lose?"

"No," Melian answered in a placid voice. "That is not what I meant. And truly, I was speaking of myself as much as I was of you."

Sophia blinked in surprise at the Maia.

"Yes," Melian said, one corner of her mouth quirking upward, "the Maia are powerful and we see much, but we are not perfect and we do not see all. I will never forget the first time I saw Elu Thingol, though," she smiled at the memory, looking off into the night. "I was dancing in the forest to the music of the trees - they had such a joyous and wild song, back in those days. Not like now, when they sing mostly of their own sickness and anger at the debasement of their world. It was dark that night, with only the starlight for illumination, since this was before the Valar created the sun and the moon, and the light of Telperion and Laurelin did not reach Middle Earth. But the stars were all the brighter for the darkness, and they sang to me, too. And then he was there, watching me. He seemed to me then as tall as the mightiest tree, and his hair was bright silver, as though one of the stars had come to Earth. Celeborn, his grand nephew, resembles him - he was handsome and strong, and I loved him the moment I saw him. We stayed in the forest together, it seemed like just moments, but years passed for his people, and they feared him lost forever. But we eventually came to them, and I agreed to rule by his side, as his Queen."

"We had a daughter, and she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, in her form, in her heart, in voice, and mind. But she fell in love with a mortal, and thus I lost her until the end of time, a grief from which I have never truly recovered. I still, to this day, feel that someone ripped my heart from my body whenever I think of her."

"So, when it came to pass, that Thingol fell to treachery, and I found him, eyes unseeing, all broken and bloody on the floor, I failed him. I failed them all. I could not function; I could not hold in my elven form, and I disintegrated into the void. And Doriath, our kingdom, fell. Without me to hide them and guard them, my people were helpless. Perhaps they would not have been so had they not become dependent on me, but I did not foresee that I would someday just leave them to their fate like that. I knew not my own heart."

Melian paused, and focused now on Sophia.

"That is why I made my promise today, and why I made it to Celeborn. For he was there. He was a prince of Doriath, my husband's confidant and counselor, whom we both loved as a son. He and Galadriel did all they could to protect our people, but it was not enough to save our beautiful Menegroth, which was smashed and looted and burned. So many deaths. So much destruction. And all because I was not strong enough."

"Do you regret it?" Sophia asked softly. "Not what happened to your people, but falling in love with him in the first place, and the pain it brought you?"

"No," Melian said, without hesitation. "No, I could never regret him. Never. Indeed, my pulse quickens at the thought that the world will soon end, because it means I will see Thingol again." Melian smiled at her young companion. "It is no small thing, to look forward to Armageddon."

Sophia bowed her head.

"You are so dear to me, child," Melian said softly, "nearly as much as my own Luthien, though your mortal life is but the fluttering of a butterfly's wing, and it is painful to me to lose another daughter to time. It pains me even more to see you so sad and confused."

"You want to know the worst part?" Sophia suddenly burst out. "He can actually hear me. I have no privacy from him. It's like adding insult to injury."

"He cannot," Melian told her.

"What?"

"He can no longer hear you."

"He told you that?" Sophia asked, and Melian nodded. "Does that...does that mean the bond is broken?"

"No," Melian answered, "I do not believe so. Why? Do you wish it to be?"

"I don't know," Sophia admitted, hanging her head.

"Well, you could see if you are still able to touch him."

Sophia started to shake her head, but then slumped her shoulders and nodded instead. She needed to know.

Sophia closed her eyes and relaxed, trying to reach out to Legolas. Almost immediately, she felt an overwhelming wave of despair wash over her, and then the sting of liquor on her tongue, followed by a sudden spike of hope.

_Sophia_?

She quickly withdrew and looked at the Maia in surprise. "I can still reach him. He's drinking something strong, cognac I think - and he's, well, he's pretty upset."

Melian nodded. "I asked Celeborn to watch over him. I am not surprised that my nephew would consider human spirits to be palliative. He always was a sensualist. That is good, Sophia, that you are able to close your mind like that. You may have need of such a skill in the coming days. Remember how that feels."

Sophia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Did he...sleep with her? My crazy grandmother?" Sophia finally asked.

"I do not know the answer to that. But I can tell you for a fact that elves only find one bond mate in their immortal existence, so the connection he has with you is unique. He has never known it before, and if you reject him, he will never know it again."

Melian paused, watching the young human, who sat expressionless, eyes still downcast.

"It is your choice, of course."

"My choice?" Sophia repeated, now looking right at the Maia. "My choice? Are you kidding? When did I have a choice about anything? I had no choice when my father died - we had to go with Elrond. I had no choice when my mother took us away - I had to take care of Brandon. I didn't choose to have this mystical, psychic bond, with my grandmother's boyfriend, no less. And now I have to fulfill this prophecy, because that's apparently my destiny. I have never had a choice, not once, in my entire life."

Sophia sprang to her feet and ran off into the darkness, without a backward glance. Melian watched her go, sadly, and said softly into the night air, "But you do have a choice, Sophia. Eru protect us all."

It was Elrond who found her, several hours later, asleep underneath the Kauri trees next to Elrohir's grave. He picked her up and began to walk with her back towards her rooms.

"Grandfather?" she murmured sleepily.

"Yes, my dear. I'm taking you to your room so you can get a little rest."

She leaned her head against his chest and listened to his heart beat.

"Aren't I a little old for this? You're going to give yourself a hernia or something."

Elrond smiled down at her. "You are still light as a feather to me, _melleth nin_."

"Is Elladan okay?" she asked softly, after a short silence.

"I rather think he should be worried about you," Elrond said pointedly.

"But he's not going to fade, is he?" she persisted.

Elrond sighed. "No, not likely. He is choosing to bury his grief in anger, and I have yet to hear of an elf fading out of spite. But I am worried about him - I am afraid he will continue to harm those he cares most about before he returns to himself."

"Oh, God, I hope not," she yawned. "You know, I really could be walking."

"Allow me to baby you this one last time," he chuckled. They arrived at her quarters, and he strode inside, setting her gently down on the bed, pulling her shoes off and arranging the covers over her.

"You only have a few more hours to sleep. Try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Sophia reached out and took Elrond's hand before closing her eyes. "Will you tell me," she said, just when he thought she had fallen asleep, "about Legolas? I need to know the truth."

Elrond bit his lip and considered what to say.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Please?"

Elrond nodded slowly, keeping a tight grip on her hand.

"Legolas was your grandmother's primary guardian as she was growing up. I don't know if you knew that?" Sophia shook her head. "We all participated in her upbringing, but he was in charge, given the prophecy. We decided she should know the whole story about her background, that perhaps that would help keep her on her guard. Unfortunately, she was rather taken with it all and took to calling herself the Queen of Gondor. I think she even had stationery made to that effect. She felt that only Legolas, as the scion of a royal family, was a suitable mate for her." He cleared his throat and paused.

"I won't lie to you: I think there was a time when Legolas was attracted to her. She was very beautiful and quite a lively woman. And then he also felt a sense of duty, because he thought there needed to be a bond between them in order for the prophecy to be fulfilled. But I know he agonized about it, because he did not love her that way, and he could not bring himself to pledge his heart to her. So, finally, he told her so. In revenge, she seduced one of her bodyguards and became pregnant by him. I don't believe she ever had any feelings for the poor man, nor truly for the child, your father. Most unfortunately, she was not capable of loving anyone but herself, and she grew more erratic and unpleasant with each passing year. It was a grim time for us all."

"Did he sleep with her?"

Elrond looked at Sophia, pursing his lips. "Does it really matter if he did?"

"Of course it does!" she said angrily, dropping his hand and sitting up in bed. "How can I be with a man who slept with my grandmother?"

"Do you love him?" Elrond asked her.

"What?" Sophia responded.

"Do you love him?" Elrond persisted.

"I thought you didn't want me to be with him?" she shot back.

Elrond let out a gusty sigh. "Well, I don't really," Elrond admitted. "In part, because you are my little girl. But also, I was afraid something like this might happen..."

"That I would go nuts, like my grandmother?"

"No," Elrond said, "but I did not think he would make you happy. That was before I knew you had a bond with him already. Do you know how rare that is? To forge such a connection with someone before there is a union?"

"Now, how would I know that?" Sophia demanded.

"Well, it is very rare."

"And why else don't you want me with him - because it will kill him?"

"Or because he will have to watch you age and die, while he remains eternally youthful?" Elrond said bluntly, while Sophia paled. "But frankly, that seems irrelevant at this point. Speaking of that, you really should try to get some sleep. The journey is not too long, but we may well be going to battle as soon as we arrive in Valinor. It is important for you to be as rested as you can be."

"I can't imagine I'll be able to sleep at this point," she grumped.

"I can help you with that."

"You can?" Sophia looked up at him thoughtfully. "Will I dream?"

"No, dear one, you will not."

She hesitated and then nodded.

He touched her forehead gently and willed her to sleep.

"Try to forgive him, my love," he whispered to her, kissing the top of her head lightly, before he left her to her rest.

As soon as Elrond left, Legolas quietly crept into the room. He sat in a chair and watched Sophia sleep, knowing that Elrond had placed her in a dreamless sleep and he would not disturb her. As the sky began to lighten, he stood and came to the bedside, taking one last look at her before placing a folded paper and a small box on the table and slipping quietly out the door.

A short time later, the sound of someone calling her name woke Sophia up.

"Go away," she muttered, turning over on her stomach. "I'm sleeping."

"I can see that," the voice said patiently. "But you have to get up now. It's almost time to leave for Dunedin - you'll miss breakfast if you don't get out of bed."

"Wait, Valdaglerion? Is that you?"

"It is."

"What the hell are you doing in my room? I mean, I could be naked, here."

"You are not," he pointed out.

"Well, you didn't know that."

"Would you like to be left behind, with the orcs and the drones?"

"I used to think you were such a nice elf," she grumbled, sitting up sleepily.

"Here," Valdaglerion said, handing her a brush.

"Bedhead?" she asked, and he nodded emphatically. "How did you know?"

"I noticed it when we camped. You and your brother both wake looking as though a wild animal has run through your hair."

"Well, we can't all be perfect little elves," she snapped, shaking the brush at the smooth, dark hair that fell about his shoulders like a silk curtain. Then she yanked it angrily through her own tangled curls.

Valdaglerion ignored her comment and looked around for her bag.

"You are all packed?"

"Yes, mother," she groused, and then sighed. "Sorry, Val. I'm really not a morning person, even when I'm in a good mood. And I'm not in a good mood."

"Yes," Valdaglerion answered placidly, "I noticed that, too. What can I do to help you get ready?"

"You can go out in the other room while I use the bathroom and change my clothes."

"I think there's something for you on the nightstand," he commented as he glided into the living room.

Sophia figured Elrond had left something for her and picked up the sheet of paper, unfolding it.

_I love you. Always and only you. _

"Probably not Elrond, then," she grumbled, picking up the box. She lifted the top off carefully, and her eyes popped open. It was a curved leaf, carved out of what appeared to be a large piece of jade, and it had delicate twigs of diamond-sprinkled silver entwined around the top. She picked it up and a silvery chain cascaded through her fingers. The gemstone felt warm in her hands, and when she closed her fingers around it, she suddenly felt as though she were in a forest, with the spicy smell of trees and underbrush, the wind whispering through the leaves, and birdsong rippling through the air. It was a feeling of peace, a gentle contentment, and she knew somehow that it was Legolas's home. She bowed her head over her clenched fist and sighed, shaking out the chain and dangling the leaf in front of her eyes.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" she murmured.

"Are you dressed yet?" Valdaglerion called out. "Because I'm hungry."

"You could just go without me," she said crossly, putting the necklace down and pulling off her trousers and shirt, for she had slept in her clothes.

"No thank you," he answered pleasantly, "I prefer to wait for you."

"Suit yourself," she grumped, stomping into the bathroom. She soon came back out, toweling off her damp hair. She looked at her discarded things on the floor and decided to pack them, too, given how few changes of clothing she had. Sighing, she picked up the necklace again, and finally pulled it over her head, tucking it under her fleece jumper. At the last second, she grabbed the note, too, and jammed it into a side pocket in her bag.

"All set?" Valdaglerion remarked, as she emerged from her room, freshly scrubbed.

"Good to go," Sophia confirmed, fastening her swordbelt around her waist, and her quiver and bow on her pack.

"Let me carry that," the ellon offered, motioning at her backpack.

"I think I'd better get used to carrying it for myself," she smiled at him, "unless you're planning to be my sherpa all across Valinor."

He took the bag from her. "Just to breakfast," he commented.

"Okay, then. Thanks, Val, for coming to get me," she said softly, grasping his shoulder.

"You are welcome," he answered. "I thought you might like to see a friendly face, but not too friendly."

She chuckled as they headed for the main hall.

"Are you even healed enough to go into battle?" she asked him.

"Sure," he shrugged, knocking a fist against his skull. "My mother always said I was hard headed. And you?" he said, turning his wide blue-gray eyes to her. "Are you alright?"

"Sure," she said, also knocking her fist against her skull. "I'm pretty hard headed, myself."

"Yesssss," Valdeglerion exhaled doubtfully.

"Really, Val," she said, squeezing his arm. "I'll be okay. Maybe not today or even tomorrow, but we have bigger things to worry about right now."

"Okay," he shrugged, signaling that he thought it was none of his business.

"Ah, Sophia, there you are," Glorfindel called out, striding towards them, kissing Sophia on the cheek. "And good morning to you, Valdaglerion. Is that your bag, Sophie?" She nodded. "Good, I'll go put it on the helicopter. You're going to fly ahead with me, Brandon, Earendil, Elwing, and Melian. We have to go retrieve Vingilote in Auckland."

"Is that our whole crew?"

"Of course not. We will have 150 warriors on the boat with us once we leave Dunedin, and Celeborn will sail with us, too, for good measure."

"150?" she goggled. "Where will we fit them all?"

"That boat is much bigger than you think it is," he chuckled. "Why don't you and Valdaglerion go get some breakfast? We'll leave as soon as you're done."

The dining hall was still packed with elves, but it was a subdued crowd, with everyone focused on the battles they would all soon face. And yet, there was an undercurrent of excitement, too, for Glorfindel and Maglor were the only elves left in Middle Earth who had ever been to Valinor. All of those who had come with Feanor or over the grinding ice in the First Age had either returned back over the water or been killed, and many present had been born long after they were gone.

"I am very curious, too," Valdeglerion admitted to Sophia, as they listened to the hushed speculation about what it would be like. "I was born here in Paradise, actually. Elanordis is the only elf younger than I am. So I never even saw Lothlorien or Rivendell, where my family came from, let alone the cities of Valinor."

"Is your family there?"

"Some are," he answered. "Some are still here." He frowned and looked down. "My mother and father disappeared about 50 years ago, somewhere in Southeast Asia, I think. I don't know what happened to them."

"Oh," Sophia said, taken aback. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "How about you? Is Brandon your only family?"

"Immediate family, yes," she answered, looking down. "On the mortal side, they're all dead. But now at least I know I have all these elf relatives, and that's been great."

Valdaglerion smiled slightly, recognizing that he was being put off.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Have you seen Brandon?" she responded, craning her neck to look around the room.

"Yes," he answered, clearing his throat. "I stumbled across him with Ela very early this morning, in one of the groves by Diamond Lake."

"Oh," Sophia said, guessing from Val's expression that he had found them in a compromising position. "What were you doing over there?" she asked, covering her embarrassment.

"I just wanted a last look at the mountains," he sighed. "I think we are very likely never to return, and this has been my home for a long time. I'm sure Valinor is beautiful, too, but I will miss it here. Nor do I think we will be in Valinor all that long, if the prophecies are true."

Sophia frowned as she walked out of the dining hall next to him. "Then where do you think we will be?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, which seemed to be a common mode of expression for him. "Someplace new, maybe."

"Huh," Sophia grunted, brow wrinkled. She was too preoccupied to notice Legolas watching her from the portico of a nearby building, though Valdaglerion saw him.

"Is that a new necklace you're wearing?" He suddenly asked, turning his body in a way that left Legolas with a clearer view of Sophia.

"What? Oh, yeah," she said absently, pulling it out from under her fleece and dangling it for him to see.

"That's nice," he commented. "Is it a spirit stone?" He glanced over at Legolas, who gave him a grateful look and a nod.

"A what?"

"A spirit stone. Some gems can be imprinted - with a memory or a feeling. I've seen one before, and that has the same look."

"Oh," she said, frowning down at it, "yes, I suppose it is." She tucked it back under her fleece, knowing that Valdaglerion wouldn't ask her anything else about it.

"There you are," Brandon gasped, running up to her, out of breath. "Glorfindel sent me to get you - we have to go. Uh, hi, Val," he paused, clasping hands with the quiet elf.

"See you in Dunedin," Valdaglerion said mildly, sauntering away.

"He didn't say anything about me, did he?" Brandon asked worriedly, as Sophia fell in step beside him.

"Well, he implied that he walked in on you and Elanordis."

Brandon groaned. "Did anyone else hear?"

"Nah," she said chucking his shoulder and grinning at him. "He's very discreet. He won't tell anyone."

"He told you," Brandon sounded annoyed.

"Not exactly," she said smugly, "I guessed. And anyway, I thought we weren't going to keep any secrets?"

Brandon smiled at her, and ducked his head. "It was amazing, Soph. It is amazing. She's thinking about me right now, in fact - I can tell."

"Okay, okay - TMI, bro," she threw her hands up, but then turned to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I'm happy for you," she said softly.

"Thanks," he answered, eyes sparkling.

They ran the rest of the way to the helicopter, its impatient rotors already spinning. No sooner were they in the air, though, than Sophia fell soundly asleep.

"Must be something about helicopters," Brandon muttered, looking at his sister's bobbing head. The other passengers were all speaking Sindaran together, so he watched the scenery below, concentrating on showing Elanordis what he was seeing.

"You should stop doing that," Melian informed him.

"Doing what?" he asked, startled.

"Communicating with her," she said evenly. "It makes the bond more obvious, and it would be best if she did not flaunt it in front of her father. He has calmed down considerably, but he is still not likely to see it as a cause for celebration."

"Oh," Brandon answered, flushing bright red.

"She didn't make her choice, did she?" Glorfindel asked.

"What choice? Oh, that. Well, I don't think so. I don't know."

"I sure hope not," he muttered. "This would be the wrong time for her to decide to be mortal."

Elwing asked Melian something, and Brandon was pretty sure she wanted a translation, which made him squirm. She said something back to the Maia.

"My grandaughter, my dear Elwing, is reminding us all that Elanordis is a very intelligent young ellyth and can figure it out for herself. And she and Earendil wish to congratulate you, Brandon, upon coupling with their great granddaughter. They are very pleased."

"Oh, ah, thank you," he glanced uneasily at the two ancient elves, who were beaming at him.

Glorfindel craned his head around to look at the young mortal and cracked up. "That may well be my favorite facial expression I've ever seen on you, Bran," he cackled. "You look like you swallowed your tongue."

"I think I almost did," he said ruefully. "Is it, um, really that obvious?"

"To an elf, yes," said Glorfindel, still chuckling. "But don't worry. Elanordis will know how to hide it - from her father, at any rate. I am sure Liriel and Elrond already know. And we are all going to make sure we keep you away from Elladan, trust me."

"Oh my God," he groaned under his breath. "Can we change the subject?" he said out loud.

"Oh no, definitely not," Glorfindel crowed. "Elladan aside, true bonding actually is a cause for celebration, given that it is somewhat rare. We would ordinarily have a big consummation party for you and Ela tonight."

Brandon looked at Glorfindel in horror, his mouth slack.

"But we shall all be otherwise engaged this evening, and Ela will not even be on the same boat as you, I'm afraid."

"Stop tormenting the boy," Melian scolded Glorfindel. "It is true, dear, that this is usually something that would call for a festive occasion, but it would be your choice. And in the circumstances, I do not believe anyone will say much to you."

"It is good thing," Earendil interrupted, looking confused. "You worry about Elladan?"

Melian said something in Sindaran to the mariner, who looked surprised but answered eagerly, Elwing nodding along.

Melian laughed, and Brandon realized he had not really heard her laugh since he was young, and that he missed the sound. His nostalgia, however, was short-lived, once she translated what Earendil had to say. "They are dismayed that humankind has become so private about love, and they want you to relax and tell them more. They are interested in the details."

Brandon looked frantically at Sophia, but she remained blissfully unaware, head back and mouth open, snoring slightly.

It was going to be a very long helicopter ride.


	20. Chapter 20

**_BlondiezHere - that was an amazing comment! Thank you so much for the really thoughtful feedback. And you caught us - we forgot that Tuor and Idril went to the undying lands. Not sure if we'll just embrace the mistake or fix it, but let us know if you have a view about that. Also, these past couple of chapters have been pretty suggestive, which one of us is not all that comfortable with. Should we change the rating?_**

**Chapter 20: Forget Me Not So Soon**

"We are landing, Sophia, dear," Melian said, shaking the young woman's shoulder. "Time to wake up."

"Oh," Sophia blinked, yawning hugely and stretching her arms up. "Did I sleep again? Wow. I swear, helicopters just feel like a rocking cradle to me. What'd I miss?" She asked, addressing the last to her brother, frowning when she looked at him. "You looked wiped out," she observed.

Glorfindel snickered in the front seat.

"It's nothing," Brandon said quickly.

"Earendil and Elwing wanted to know how his "coupling" with Elanordis went," Glorfindel called out as he landed the aircraft.

Sophia burst out laughing.

"Oh, shut up," her brother grumbled.

"Well, maybe you should walk me through it, since I missed the blow-by-blow," she winked at Earendil, who smiled placidly at her.

"I'm going to kill you," Brandon growled.

"Oh, not to worry," Glorfindel broke in, taking his headset off and motioning for his passengers to open the doors. "You'll have your turn, Sophie, dear."

She shot him a hard look. "That seems unlikely," she said frostily, jumping out the door.

Glorfindel looked thoughtfully at her back as she walked stiffly away from him, exchanging a glance with Melian.

"I thought you said you talked to her," he murmured.

"I did, indeed," Melian answered.

"Well, it apparently didn't work," he pointed out.

"I see Legolas is not the only impatient ellon. Not to worry. She will not be able to deny her heart forever."

"Forever," Glorfindel remarked grimly, "is not on the table."

"You do not know that," the Maia responded easily, patting him on the cheek. "Have faith, my golden flower." Glorfindel raised his eyebrows at her.

"If you are trying to reassure me, invoking memories of Gondolin is hardly the way to do it, my lady. Anyone need anything from the lodge before we get on the ship?" he called out.

As no one did, they hiked down to the cove, where Vingilote's silver sails sparkled in the bright New Zealand sunlight. The boat bobbed in the waves, almost as though it were excited at the prospect of passengers.

"Vingilote happy," Earendil remarked. "She ready."

"The boat has feelings?" Sophia muttered to her brother.

"More than you do, apparently," he said, still miffed at her ribbing about Elanordis.

"Oh now," she said, throwing an arm over his shoulder. "You know I'm very happy for both of you, Bran. I promise not to tease you anymore."

"They made me talk about it the whole way here," he grumbled. "It was the most embarrassing two hours of my life."

Sophia covered her smile with an exaggerated grimace. "That does sound awful," she sympathized.

Brandon looked at her suspiciously, but Earendil forestalled any further argument by gesturing them to a small dinghy, which Sophia discreetly propelled out to the ship once they were all aboard.

As soon as they hit the open ocean, Vingilote sliced through the water, carrying them swiftly toward Dunedin.

"At this rate," Glorfindel said in Sophia's ear, making her jump, "we'll get there before the buses do."

Sophia smiled politely at him. "Nice shades," she commented, admiring his rimless, mirrored sunglasses.

"Ray Bans," he agreed. "So, how long are you going to punish Legolas? I never thought of you as a cruel person."

Sophia stared at him, now perturbed that she couldn't see his eyes.

"Punish him? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you? He did nothing wrong, you know. Well, scratch that. He's made many mistakes in the last century. But he didn't do anything wrong to you."

Sophia snorted. "Okay, Del, how about not coming clean to me that there was a history there?"

Glorfindel waggled his head from side to side. "Okay, I will give you that. It would have been wise of him to tell you that your grandmother had a thing for him."

"Did he sleep with her?"

"You seem very obsessed with that question."

"How would you know? I've never asked you about it before."

"We do," he said, running a finger in a circle in the air, gesturing toward Melian, "talk to each other, you know."

She scowled and looked off at the sea. "Why am I not surprised," she said bitterly.

"Look, Sophia," he said seriously, taking the sunglasses off. "Don't tell me that you aren't pining for him, because I can tell that you are. You cannot deny what your soul has chosen without doing great harm to him and to yourself." He paused and leaned a little closer, putting one hand on her shoulder. "I know that too many people in your life have disappointed you, but that is not Legolas. He will never let you down and he will never leave you, but you are going to have to forgive him for having some road miles. If I'm not mistaken, you have a few yourself, and you have been around for a fraction of the time he has."

"Yeah, but I didn't have a fling with his grandfather!" she exclaimed.

"Well," Glorfindel sighed, putting his sunglasses back on, "you may well get the chance someday, if you would like to balance the scale. Indeed, you are likely to meet his father in the very near future, and Thranduil is single and exceedingly handsome, in a bad boy sort of way. I seem to remember that you always did like the bad boys."

"That's...that's just gross. I'm not talking to you about this anymore."

Glorfindel shrugged and started to turn away. "Oh, one more thing, Sophia," he said, "he could die tomorrow, you know." With that, he joined Earendil and the others on the foredeck, leaving Sophia gaping after him.

She slumped down on the deck, her backpack next to her, and stared angrily at the coastline sliding by. Before long, she could see they were approaching a large inlet, and in spite of her irritation with Glorfindel, she felt excited.

"Is that Dunedin?" she yelled at Earendil.

"Yes," he agreed. "Dunedin!"

Brandon wandered over to her. "Are you going to stay on the boat?" he asked tactfully.

"Yes," she answered shortly.

"Ela is going to come with Elrond to say goodbye to us."

She nodded, crossing her arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she responded. "I just want to be alone right now."

"Oh," he said, looking disappointed. "Okay. But you'll say goodbye to Ela, right?"

"Yes," she relented, peering up at him, "of course." She held her hand up to him, and he pulled her to her feet.

The boat slowed and entered the neck of a long, narrow bay, buzzing with sailboats and cargo ships. Just as a busy harbor was coming into view ahead of them, the ship suddenly tacked left, toward an empty, rocky stretch of coastline. Brandon and Sophia peered eagerly at what looked like a somewhat forbidding tangle of waves and trees, when suddenly, the image shifted and they were looking at a natural harbor, full of sailing ships. The weathered gray docks were crowded with people, and a quaint village rose in the low hillside behind, all white walls, red roofs, and seaside charm. They could see the motor coaches parked at the far end of town.

They slowly pulled into a slip, and Elwing sprang off the side of the boat, neatly catching the lines her husband tossed her and tying them onto cleats.

"I will go round up the troops," Glorfindel called out to the siblings. "If you decide to disembark, make sure to be back here no more than an hour."

They nodded.

"Do you want to look around a little? Maybe go find them?" Brandon asked hopefully.

"Given that we both have people we don't want to run into right now, no. I think we should just stay right here."

"Oh," he sagged against the rail. "Okay. I just hope they come soon."

"Can't you tell?"

"I'm afraid to reach out - Melian said it makes the bond more obvious."

"Well, there she is, anyway."

When Elanordis caught sight of Brandon, she broke into a sprint, just as he jumped over the side of the boat and onto the quay. They crashed into each other and very nearly toppled into the water.

"I missed you!" Elanordis declared.

"Me, too," Brandon murmured, smoothing her hair back from her face. He looked up at Sophia pleadingly. "We're going to go below for a few minutes, okay? Can you keep an eye out?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Well, you'd better hurry up and do whatever you have to do, because there are going to be 150 fully-armed warriors arriving any minute."

Brandon grabbed Ela's hand and pulled her onto the boat, waving at Earendil and Elwing as they all but tripped down the stairs and disappeared below decks.

"They are from a different time," Elrond said, watching his parents as they looked fondly at the young couple.

"Yes," Sophia agreed. "I gather they were pressing Brandon for details the whole way here."

Elrond smiled. "That must have been...interesting."

"Slept through it," she admitted. "How's Elladan taking it?"

"He has not noticed," Elrond said. "The anger is beginning to wane, leaving just emptiness in its wake. Unfortunately, that is worse." He pressed a hand over his eyes.

"I am so sorry," Sophia said softly. "You've had more than your fair share of sorrow, haven't you grandfather?"

"Into every life, a drop of rain must fall," he responded evenly. "And I have been gifted with a very long life, so it is understandable that there is more than a drop. Legolas would like to speak to you," he said, watching her.

Sophia looked down and shook her head. "No, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Sophie," Elrond started.

"I'm just not ready," Sophia interrupted him. "I will be, I promise. Just not yet."

"I understand," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her on the top of the head. "But don't wait too long, dear one. Even I cannot see what lies ahead." He frowned, and looked out at the water. "At least, I do not believe I can."

He stepped back, holding her at arm's length, and took a careful look at her, his eyes suddenly widening.

"What?" She asked, looking down at her fleece and pants. "What is it?"

"Did I see Brandon wearing a red sweatshirt and khaki pants?"

"I think so, yes," she responded.

Elrond took in a deep breath through his nose and continued to stare at her.

"What is it, grandfather?"

"You must promise me something, Sophie," he finally said.

"Yes?"

"Keep your backpacks and weapons on your person, at all times. Both of you. On the boat, and when you get off the boat. And don't go off alone anywhere."

"Okay," she said slowly. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"I do not really know," he responded. "But just promise me that."

"I promise," she said uneasily.

He flicked a glance down the dock and gave her a lopsided smile. "Perhaps you should warn your brother that Glorfindel has returned, and the ship is about to be overrun with witnesses."

"Right," she said, hurrying back onto the boat and rapping on the closed door of the first cabin.

"Company," she called out. "Lots and lots of company."

"Okay," she heard Brandon say in a muffled voice, "be right out."

"Backpack," Elrond reminded her, before she could jump back off, and she shouldered her pack before rejoining him. Brandon and Elanordis soon came up on deck, looking flushed and slightly askew. They stepped down onto the dock, hand in hand.

"Grandpa," Elanordis pleaded, "can't I just go on Vingilote, too? Please?"

Elrond looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Ela, but you know your father needs you right now. We will all be together again as soon as we get there."

She bowed her head.

"We should go," he added gently. "Say your goodbyes, child."

Ela threw her arms around Brandon, kissing him soundly, to a rousing round of catcalls from the approaching warriors. Ela made a hand gesture at them that Sophia did not recognize, but she figured must have been pretty rude in elven terms as the volume of whistles and cheers increased. Elrond was shaking his head, though a suggestive twist of his lips hinted that he might not be as disapproving as he pretended to be.

"Are you gonna kiss me, too, Elanordis?" someone shouted out. "Cause I could really use a little love right now!"

"In your dreams, Cilchon," she shouted out over her shoulder. "Because that's the only place you get any."

There was laughter all around, and the warriors around the one who had shouted, smacked him on his arms and back, while he blew a kiss to the grinning ellyth. Sophia could tell they saw Ela as one of their own.

"If you are quite finished?" Elrond said, with excessive politeness, and Elanordis this time had the good grace to blush. The soldiers passing by wisely withheld further comment, eying Elrond nervously, but from the jostling elbows and lifted eyebrows, Sophia knew Brandon was in for another long ride.

Elrond folded her into a tight embrace, and she could feel his heart pounding. "Just know," he whispered in her ear, "that whatever happens, I believe in you and your strength. I always have." He leaned back and gently touched her cheek, and she was startled to see that his eyes were moist with emotion.

"We will see you soon, Adar - isn't that what elves say? Adar?"

Elrond smiled at her. "Thank you - I like the sound of it coming from you."

He embraced Brandon then, and whatever he said made the young human stand up straight, with a proud look on his face.

"Safe journey, grandfather."

"Brandon," Elrond said, staring at the dock, "I told your sister - make sure you keep your backpack on, throughout the journey."

Brandon looked at him curiously but readily agreed.

"Come, Ela. It is time," Elrond held his hand out for her, and she gave Brandon one last kiss and Sophia a quick, fierce hug before slipping her fingers into her grandfather's and walking decisively away.

"Let's go," Glorfindel said softly, grasping the siblings by the shoulders and turning them toward the boat. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as we can be, I guess," Sophia sighed.

As they finished loading the boat, Sophia felt a prickling sensation on the back of her scalp and realized that Legolas must be somewhere nearby. She focused narrowly on the task in front of her, grabbing the crates of food being handed over the side. It was a bit of a nuisance to be lugging the heavy pack the entire time, and she and Brandon both earned many curious looks and more than one suggestion about taking them off. But Elrond no doubt had his reasons and they had learned it was better to trust him than question him.

As she took the next package, Sophia's fingers met those of the elf handing it over the rail, and the nerves in her hand responded with a shiver that traveled up her arms. Startled, she looked down and right into Legolas's gray eyes.

"You cannot avoid me forever," he said with a wry smile, "so we may as well get this over with."

"I thought I was doing a pretty good job of avoiding you, actually," she said coolly, but she found she could not look away from him, and her heart lurched traitorously in her chest.

He nodded, the smile dropping from his face. "Yes," he said softly, "you were."

They gazed at each other silently.

"I should have told you," he finally said. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, you should have," she snapped, her irritation with him blossoming anew. "I would have found out, one way or another, but it wouldn't have seemed like such a betrayal if you had just told me yourself."

He hung his head, breaking eye contact.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Yes. You said that."

He put his hand on hers, and again, she warmed to his touch, feeling it right down to her toes.

"I was looking for the right time to tell you, and there just never seemed to be a right time. At first, I was worried you wouldn't trust me anymore, and then that you wouldn't want to be with me."

"Looks like you were right on both counts," she shot back.

He looked up at her sharply, and she slid her hand out from under his.

"Sophie," he pleaded. "I know I'm not infallible, but I will never hurt you. I swear nothing like this will ever happen again. "

"What was it Elladan said? You shouldn't make oaths you can't keep?" She could feel the pain lancing off of him and sighed, closing her eyes. Now she was just hurting him because she could, and that wasn't right. It wasn't who she wanted to be.

"It will be okay," she finally confessed, in a small voice. "I will be okay." She opened her eyes, and reached out to brush his mind lightly, reassuringly with hers, feeling his shame and desperation and need. "I just want a little time."

He took her hand again and slowly pressed his lips to her open palm. _I will wait for you_, he thought, "however long it takes," he added out loud. Without meaning to, she curled her fingers against his cheek.

"I have to go," she said. "I'm sure you do, too. I'll see you there?"

He nodded, and with one last look at her, he turned and walked lightly up the dock.

She watched him for a moment, and then with a heavy sigh, carried the last box down into the hold to Maethorian, who was supervising the loading of the cargo.

"Alright there, Sophie?" he asked, squinting up at her.

"Alright," she said, forcing a smile at him. "How about you? How are you feeling"

He shrugged. "Not too bad, all things considered. I'd rather have had another couple of weeks of rest before going into battle again, but unfortunately, the enemy gets a vote."

"No kidding," she agreed. "Are we about to get underway?"

"Yes, I think so. Here, let me join you up on deck."

Sophia and Maethorian emerged topside just as Elwing was throwing the lines back onto the boat.

"I can't believe we all fit in here," she commented, looking at the crowded deck. She spied Celeborn standing tall across the deck, his silver hair standing out like a beacon.

"This ship has a way of accommodating its passengers," Maethorian grinned, "or so I've heard. None of us has ever actually seen Vingilote before - it's just been the stuff of legends, like a bedtime story."

"Until now," she noted.

"Until now," he agreed.

As Vingilote slowly pulled out into the channel, the elves began to sing, their clear voices soaring up on the wind.

"What are they saying?" Sophia asked Maethorian softly.

"It's a traveling song," he answered. "About a warrior saying goodbye to his lover and leaving his home."

_You were always beautiful _

_But never more than now_

_Eyes like stars_

_Lips like honey wine_

_Hair of flowing silk_

_But the music of your voice_

_Falls before the prow_

_And marching, marching_

_My memories falter and fade_

_The green and gentle hills_

_The waterfalls of my youth_

_Oh, this verdant land_

_Its ripe fruit and sweet flowers_

_Forsake me for the sword_

_The terrible glory of war_

_Sing your lament, my love, my land_

_Forget me not so soon_

_Lest I never return_

"That won't exactly rally the troops," Sophia muttered under her breath, as Maethorian translated the lilting melody. They soon emerged from the cove, and the shore began to recede. It seemed to hover there, the pulsating green rising up from a clear blue sea, the ribbon of white sand beaches, punctuated by a rocky shore beyond. The elves continued to sing until Otango Bay was just a gray smudge on the horizon, and then they all fell silent.

"Well," Maethorian sighed, "I should get back down there and make sure everything is squared away. I think I see Brandon hiding in the prow," he noted with a snicker.

"I bet he is," she laughed. "I'd better go rescue him."

She threaded her way through the crowd of subdued elves, all taking what they knew would be a last look at the place many had called home and all had seen as a sanctuary. Finally, the crowd thinned at the front of the boat, where the view was only of the vanishing point between sea and sky, Brandon was alone, sitting at the very tip, above the swan figurehead.

"Hey," he said, as she approached and sat down next to him.

"Hey," she responded. "Maethorian thinks you're hiding up here."

"Yep," he confirmed. "They were giving me a hard time about Ela," he sighed.

"Well, that was a pretty public display of affection," she reasoned.

"I guess so," he allowed. "It's kind of weird, you know, to be heading off to war with a guy who is basically Satan, and feel really, really happy."

"Wouldn't know," she said dryly. "I barely even..."

"Hey," Brandon interrupted before she could finish the thought, "are we heading into a storm? Because that's a pretty big cloud."

They both stood up and shaded their eyes, looking at what appeared to be a dark mass, fast approaching them. Suddenly, the wind picked up violently, and they could hear Earendil shouting directions.

"What is happening?" Sophia cried, as the dark cloud roared toward them.

"I think it's a waterspout!" Brandon exclaimed. "We need to get below, right away!"

But before either of them could move, a dark swirl of water and air peeled off the waterspout, almost like a giant arm, and whipped across the water to the front of the boat, grabbing them both and flinging them into the sea. Sophia gasped in shock and took in a mouthful of water, choking as the wind pushed her under the waves. Even in the churning, dark swirl of water, she could see the glint of fins and teeth and knew the sharks they had seen in the lagoon were back, all around them. She brought Brandon closer to her on a current of water and then flung an air-filled bubble of light around them, keeping the sharks and the turgid ocean at bay.

_Legolas_! she thought frantically.

_What happened? Where are you?_ she could barely hear him.

_We were pulled overboard!_

_I'm coming_!

_No! No!_ She screamed at him. _There are sharks - stay where you are! We are safe, the ring is keeping us safe._

_Sophie, we're about to make the jump. You must get back on the boat. We can't stop it and we won't be able to come back for you. Hurry._

_I can't_, she wailed, as she looked at the upwelling of flashing bodies and fierce currents

_It's too late_, he thought frantically

_Wait for me_, she called out, _I love you_!

And then there was a silence so sudden, it made her ears ring. She could not find Legolas anymore, and the creatures were gone, or at least were lurking somewhere out in the murky depths. The furious currents subsided.

They were alone.


	21. Chapter 21

_**AN: Blondiez, thank you so much for the really great, thoughtful review. We're changing the rating, but the bigger issue is that one of us isn't too interested in writing romantic passages and one of us is. But that's the fun of writing together.**_

**_Still thinking about Tuor... Not sure what we'll do yet._**

**_And it may take a few chapters, but we'll get there on granny and what happened. Glad you like Glorfindel's quips!_**

**Chapter 21: Stranded**

Sophia brought them up to the surface, keeping the bubble intact, just in case. A vast and empty sea yawned all around them in every direction, with no sign of the great armada of elven boats. Nor could they see land. They both stared around them, dumbfounded, lightly treading water.

"Shit," Sophia finally said.

"They're gone," Brandon answered in a shocked voice. "They left. They actually left without us."

"I don't think they had a choice," Sophia observed. "Shit, shit, shit. I have no idea which way land is."

Brandon squinted up at the sun, puffing out his cheeks. "Can you tell where the current is going?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure," she answered, pointing over his shoulder. "That way."

He nodded. "Well, unless we traveled a big distance underwater, land should be that way." He pointed in the direction they were both facing. "Do you think we did? Travel underwater, I mean?"

"I really have no idea, Brandon. All I can tell you is the current is going that way and the water is really deep here." She started moving them forward in the direction he had indicated. "I don't understand what just happened."

"Sure you do," Brandon said softly. "Melkor just made sure two of the Silmarils wouldn't make it to Valinor."

"Oh God," Sophia moaned. "It's all over then. He's won."

Brandon's shoulders suddenly shook reflexively, and he clenched his jaw. "No. No, we can't let him. We can't give up. There has to be a way to get to Valinor."

"It's hopeless," Sophia panted, feeling panic rise in her throat. The light around them flickered.

"There has to be a way," Brandon repeated firmly. "There has to be. Don't give up, Soph, or he really will win."

"There's no way," she moaned. "No way at all."

"Well, I don't know, maybe they forgot a boat or something."

Sophia gasped and looked at her brother, wide-eyed.

"What?" he asked.

"There is one more boat," she said excitedly, picking up their pace over the water. "They left one - for Braichon. If we can get there before he leaves, we still have a way to get to Valinor."

"Then we'd better hurry," he cried.

It took them another 30 minutes to catch sight of land, and when they did, they knew right away that something was wrong.

"That does not look like Otango Bay," Sophia observed.

"No," Brandon agreed tersely. "It's not. Hey, look!" he exclaimed, as a flash caught his eye. "What's that?"

"Don't know, but let's head for it," Sophia responded, concentrating on moving them across the water. As they drew closer, they could see it was a lighthouse, out on a craggy promontory, with odd tooth-like rocks jutting out of the water beyond. Suddenly, a shiny black head emerged a few feet away from them, and they both gasped.

"It's just a seal," Brandon said with relief.

"You think?" Sophia drawled, as several other curious animals popped up nearby. "At least they're not made of metal."

"Well, let's stay away from those rocks, just in case they're territorial - seals like to nest in rocks. It'll be easier to get out of the water on the sandy beach over there, anyway."

Soon, they dragged themselves out of the water and up onto a crescent beach, the white sand warm in the late afternoon sun. Sophia staggered and flopped face down, breathing hard. Sitting down next to her, Brandon looked at her in concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Just tired. Not as tired as I would be if we'd actually had to swim all that way, though, so no complaints."

They sat there quietly for awhile, neither really wanting to confirm their situation by talking about it again. It was Sophia, of course, who finally broke the uneasy silence, flipping over and sitting up, easing off the straps of the backpack.

"Can you still sense Ela?" she asked abruptly.

"No," her brother answered hollowly.

She nodded slightly, frowning at the wet pack on the sand next to her. "Well," she muttered, "at least we know now why he wanted us to keep them on. He could have warned us."

"He did warn us," Brandon pointed out.

"He did not!" Sophia snapped. "He didn't tell us anything. He never tells us anything!" She could feel tears starting up in her eyes, and Brandon put a hand on her arm.

"I really don't think he knew, Soph," he said gently. "I suspect he saw we were going to get separated somehow, but not where or when. He has these visions in the books, you know, and they aren't always very clear - it's almost like a curse for him sometimes."

She drew in a couple of long breaths and put her head between her knees. When she looked up again, Brandon had his cell phone out.

"Can you tell where we are?" she asked.

"No. Looks like it's shorted out. Want to check yours?"

She pulled it out of the side zippered pocket. "Not working," she sighed.

"Feel like hiking over to that lighthouse and finding out where we are?"

"Sure," she agreed, as Brandon offered her a hand up.

They pulled their wet packs back on, brushing the sand off their soaked clothes as much as they could.

"Hey," Brandon said, as they trudged towards the rocks, "do you think you can pull moisture out of things with the ring?"

"What, you mean, like dry the packs?"

"Yeah."

She shrugged. "I guess I could try." Sophia stared at Brandon's pack, with a mental image of a straw sucking out moisture. "Anything?"

He reached back and felt the ripstop fabric. "Yeah," he said brightly, "I think that worked! Awesome. Now do yours - it'll take some of the weight out."

"I'll try," she agreed, "but I'm pretty tapped out."

She repeated her trick, knowing that while it worked, she didn't get as much water this time.

"I'll do it again later when I'm not so tired," she said absently, concentrating on scrambling up the rocks. Soon, the slick, craggy cliffside gave way to scrub brush, and the hill became steeper. Finally, it popped up on a dirt trail with a white, wooden handrail, which led up to the fenced-in tower of the lighthouse.

"I think it's automated," Brandon said, shading his eyes and peering up at the swinging black lantern. "There's not going to be anyone here."

Sophia shrugged and began heading for a blue story board along the trail. "Welcome to Nugget Point," she read. "Well, super, but that still doesn't tell us where we are."

"Yes it does," Brandon corrected her, pointing to the faint white writing in the far corner of the sign. It said Dunedin, with an arrow pointing north.

"Well, it doesn't say how far," she grumbled.

"No," he sighed, "so we'd better just start walking. Unless you need to rest?"

She shook her head and grasped his shoulder, giving him a wintry smile. "Let's go."

"I'm sure we'll find a ride," he reassured her.

They walked down the winding path to a parking lot, which was devoid of cars, and then headed out onto the road, surrounded on both sides by brown and green rolling hills, rugged with stubby trees. They plodded along in silence on the side of the road, which eventually dumped into a wider road that hugged the shoreline, with the bright, broad beaches stretching out to their right, the sparkling ocean and a long, vacant horizon beyond.

After about an hour of walking, they saw a farmhouse off the road to their left, its silos poking up over a hillside.

"Should we go ask for help?" Sophia asked hopefully.

"I guess so," Brandon answered, biting his lip.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's just...don't you think it's weird that we haven't seen a single car yet?"

Sophia shrugged. "I think this is a pretty remote area, and it looks like there's no major cities or anything. Plus it's a weekday, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed, "it's Tuesday. But still, there should have been somebody by now."

"Well, let's see what we can find out," she said decisively, turning in to the driveway for the farm. As they crested the hill above the house, though, they could already tell no one was there. The yard was utterly still, and there were no cars or trucks. They approached the white clapboard structure quietly, and Sophia knocked on the door, which creaked open under her knuckles. The siblings looked at each other, and Sophia pushed the door open a little more.

"Hello?" she called. "Is anyone home?"

"Let's go," Brandon said, pulling on her arm.

They walked back out the driveway and onto the main highway. Neither said a word as they continued up the road. After what Sophia judged to be about a mile, they saw a sign for the Nugget Lodge and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you have any money?" Sophia asked.

"Just those credit cards Glorfindel gave us - you have yours?"

She shook her head. "Didn't think they would take American Express in Valinor."

Soon, they were looking down at a small weathered, brown structure, nestled right up against the beach. They hiked to it and found it was really two structures, and both were empty. The doors were unlocked.

"Let's go in," Sophia urged.

"Okay," Brandon agreed uneasily.

Someone had obviously been staying there; there was a suitcase open on a stand, and the bed was unmade. Plates of half-eaten food sat on the table in the kitchenette.

Brandon wandered around the cozy house, full of beige furniture and ocean views. He found a binder of tourist information on a desk in the living room, "Welcome - Nau Mai" written in cheery orange letters on the front. He began to flip through it.

"Well?" Sophia asked, "What'd you find?"

"We're about 70 miles south of Dunedin," he murmured. "So, not too far. There's a little town just up the road called Kaka Point - we should be able to find a ride there. The sun will set soon, though, so we should make tracks. I'd rather not be walking on that road in the dark." He unlatched the rings of the binder and pulled out one of the plastic pouches, removing a map. "Just in case," he said, glancing up at his sister. "This has the whole area, including hiking trails."

She nodded. "See anything else we should, um, borrow?"

He shook his head and they made their way back out to the road. The sun began to drop, disappearing behind the mountains, lighting the scattered high clouds in a wash of pink and orange, which reflected back on the water.

"It's so beautiful," Brandon said wistfully. "I thought we had those colorful sunsets in LA because of the smog, but that's sure not why it looks like that here. The air is super clean. Check it out, Sophie."

She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of them. "All I can think about is that it's all going to end soon."

"Yes," her brother said, shooting her a look, "that does sort of kill the mood."

Just as they saw a sign that said they were entering Kaka Point, they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. It was twilight and fast growing dark, so they scooted as far over on the shoulder as possible. Looking eagerly up the road, they could see a pick up truck approaching.

"Looks like they have a bunch of people in the back," Sophia commented. "They may not have room for us."

"Soph," Brandon said slowly, staring at the blue light glowing under his sleeve, "Those aren't people... Get down!" He hissed, grabbing her by the pack and pulling her over the side of the road. They slid down the embankment, tumbling toward the rip rap above the beach. They were just able to get into the rocks and crouch down when they heard the brakes of the truck squealing above them and the rumble of fiendish voices.

"The rings," Sophia whispered. "They won't be able to see us if we don't want them to."

Brandon nodded, putting a finger to his lips. They could see orcs along the road now, and a spotlight on the side of the truck was turned and aimed down toward them. They orcs milled around, grunting to each other, but must have decided there was nothing there, for they all piled back into the truck and drove away.

"We should go warn the people in the town," Brandon said softly. "They'll be sitting ducks for those guys."

"Yeah," Sophia answered, but she didn't sound sure.

"Come on," he said firmly. "We can't just leave them helpless like that."

"Okay," she agreed, rubbing the back of her neck, "but let's cross the road and get up into the hillside. I don't like being trapped here against the water."

Brandon agreed, and they cautiously clawed their way back up the embankment, grabbing at weeds for handholds and peering up over the side of the road before running across and scrambling up the hill on the other side. There was brush, some trees and a series of rolling hills on this side of the road, with much more opportunity for concealment. They began to pick their way toward the town, as quickly as they could.

Before too long, they heard other vehicles approaching. Ducking down in the brush to watch, they saw that every single car or truck going by was carrying orcs. Sophia's heart sank. She didn't want to leave the townspeople to their doom, but they couldn't very well stand against a whole army of orcs by themselves. She glanced at Brandon, and from what little she could tell of the dark blur of his face, he had reached the same conclusion.

"I have binoculars," he whispered. "Let's get up above the town and take a look. Maybe we'll be able to help people escape."

She nodded, and they began to jog cautiously over the uneven ground. Once they reached a good vantage point above the little town, tucked into a lovely cove, they lay down on the ground and Brandon took out the binoculars. After peering through them for a few minutes, he passed them to his sister without comment.

Sophia scanned the area, bracing herself for a scene of carnage and people fleeing in fear. What met her eyes instead was a very strange sight, indeed: Kaka Point was full of orcs. They were strolling on the sidewalks, standing in the streets, even sitting at the sidewalk cafes. There was no sign of any people at all.

"What the hell?" Sophia muttered.

"Do you think they killed them all already?" Brandon asked softly.

"I have no idea," Sophia answered, looking all around again and still not seeing any humans. "But I think we'd better get as far away from here as we can."

Brandon nodded and put the binoculars back in his pack. "We have to be careful," he said. "They could be up here in the hills, too. Let's count on the rings to keep us concealed and try to avoid a fight, okay? They obviously have us outnumbered."

"Yeah," Sophia agreed, "Do you think it's safe to take a quick look at the map? See if there's a trail around here? We obviously need to stay off the road, but I'm worried one of us is going to sprain an ankle going over this rough ground in the dark."

Brandon nodded and took out the map and a small penlight, while Sophia kept watch around them, listening tensely for any sounds.

"Okay," he said, tucking the light and the map in his pocket. "We're not too far from a trail that takes us toward Dunedin. Follow me."

They picked their way carefully through the brush, slowly making their way up the hill. As they finally crested the rise, they could see the trail below, stretching out over a long, shallow valley, dimly lit in the starlight and a small smear of a crescent moon.

"They're everywhere," Sophia breathed. There were small clots of dark shapes moving all along the trail and up the next hillside. "What do we do?"

"We're going to need to find a place to hide," Brandon answered. "Maybe there will be another farm, or some trees tall enough to climb. Maybe some rocks we can get down into."

"Okay," Sophia agreed. "Let's stay up here for now and just take it slow."

Brandon nodded, and they started moving forward again.

It was a long, nightmarish walk for the siblings, with many close calls. Several times, they had to crouch behind rocks or roll into the bushes to avoid small patrols of orcs, but they managed to cover some terrain while successfully avoiding detection.

"Do you think they're looking for us?" Sophia wondered out loud.

"Not sure," Brandon answered. "But they all seem to be more interested in heading toward Kaka Point than in scouting around, so maybe not."

She nodded.

It seemed as though they had been walking all night when they suddenly spied a farm up ahead. Crouching down in some rocks in the hills above a large barn, Brandon scanned the property with his binoculars.

"It's pretty dark down there," he whispered, "so I can't really see too well, but I don't think there are any orcs."

"Let's head for the barn," Sophia whispered back.

They gingerly made their way down, creeping along the side of the peeling red walls. They stopped every few feet just to listen, but they heard nothing, beyond the buzz and saw of night insects, and the chirping and peeping of frogs in a nearby pond.

The barn had a small door next to the main gate, and Brandon lifted the latch carefully. It creaked slightly, and they could hear rustling inside. Sophia took the risk of pulling her knife out, and showed it to Brandon. The glimmer of the starlit sky reflected faintly off the blade, but it was otherwise not glowing. There were no orcs present.

Brandon eased the door open, and they slipped inside, quickly realizing what the rustling sound was: the barn was lined with horse stalls. Sophia made a soft whickering sound, hoping to reassure the animals, but that only seemed to make them more restless, and several began stomping and whinnying.

"They're hungry," she realized immediately.

She and Brandon quickly located a bin of oats, and he stood at the door, peering out through a crack, while Sophia moved around the barn, feeding the horses. Once she had filled the bins in every stall with a horse in it, she touched Brandon on the shoulder, nodding toward a ladder that led up to the hayloft. Sophia went up first, finding a spacious loft, full of clean hay, with an open hay door looking down onto the yard between the house and the barn.

"Come on up," she whispered down.

The siblings settled themselves as much as possible, taking out beef jerky and granola bars. Sophia had a steel water bottle, which they shared before she refilled it, drawing moisture from the air around them, as Earendil had showed her how to do.

"You sleep first," Brandon whispered, and she nodded, settling her self under some hay. She had doubted she would be able to sleep, but exhaustion won out, and she immediately dropped into an uneasy, dream-filled slumber.

Brandon watched the yard for awhile from the hay door and then examined the map, looking to see if he might be able to pick out a safe place for them to hide the next night. He tried not to think too much about what had happened, or worse yet, about all the things that still could happen, though it was hard to keep his mind from wandering. He tried to think instead of Elanordis. Though he missed the newly-forged connection with her with an almost physical pain, he found he could think of her without much distress. He realized he was sure he was going to see her again, and decided to trust that feeling.

Sophia had been asleep for a couple of hours when she started tossing and turning, moaning quietly. He watched her, biting his lip and wondering if he should wake her. While everything looked quiet out in the yard, he was worried that it might be dangerous to make too much noise. Finally, she cried out in her sleep, and Brandon gently grasped her shoulder.

"Soph," he whispered urgently. "Wake up. You're having a bad dream."

She woke up quickly and quietly, as they had been taught to do.

"What's wrong?" she asked, still foggy with sleep.

"You were calling out in your sleep," he said apologetically.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Brandon." She yawned hugely and brushed some hay out of her hair. "Just as well," she sighed. "Why don't you get some sleep now? It will be dawn soon, and we're going to need to get out of here once it's daylight."

"Okay," he agreed, burrowing down in the hay and instantly falling asleep.

Sophia crept across the loft and sat by the hay door, letting the night air cool her sweaty face. She closed her eyes, straining to remember the terrible vision she had seen in her dreams. She had been walking through the smoking ruin of a once-beautiful city, its majestic white walls tumbled down to rubble, the bejeweled streets marred with ash and burned timber. And everywhere, there were bodies. Silver-haired, dead-eyed elves who looked like Celeborn, tangled in long, sky blue and blushing pink robes. Their maimed, broken bodies were in the street, hanging from the walls, floating in tinkling fountains red with their blood. She shivered violently.

Was it really a dream, she wondered with a spreading sense of dread, or was she seeing what Legolas was seeing in Valinor? She couldn't feel any connection to him at all, now that she was awake, but it had seemed so real. Sophia reached under her fleece and pulled Legolas's necklace out, clutching it in her hand. Would he be able to see what she was doing when he slept, too? At least then he would know she was still alive, she reasoned. Though elves didn't sleep as much as humans did, so it might take awhile for him to realize he could reach her that way.

Or maybe I just have a really good imagination, she thought to herself. A really sick imagination.

Sophia let Brandon sleep past sunrise, figuring that she should see if anyone came out of the house before they got down out of the hayloft, anyway. And while she could hear roosters crowing and the raucous cackles of chickens laying eggs, there was neither a sound nor a sign of human activity. Finally, once the sun was fully up, she gave her brother a shake.

"Brandon," she said, "we should get going."

As she had earlier, he sat up immediately, without making a sound.

"I think it would be okay for us to get something to eat here and use their bathroom. There doesn't seem to be anyone here."

"Okay," Brandon yawned.

Sophia put her backpack on and moved carefully down the ladder. In the dim light, she could see the horses looking hopefully out of their stalls at her.

"Hungry again, are we?" she asked soothingly, heading back to the oats. She refilled all of the bins, talking softly to the animals, patting a velvety muzzle here and there.

"Ready?" Brandon asked her.

"Uh huh," she said absently, following him to the door. They opened it carefully and glanced out, but there was still no sign of anyone in the yard. They could see now that the door of the brick house was open, and there were no cars anywhere in sight, with the exception of an ancient blue truck propped up on cement blocks.

They tiptoed over to the house and entered. "Anyone here?" Sophia finally called out, and her voice sounded unbearably loud in the oppressive silence of the empty rooms. She looked at Brandon and nodded, and he crept down the hall. "Here's a bathroom," he said in a low voice. "You first."

She nodded and went in to use the toilet and wash her face. Sophia knew it might be the last time she would see running water and plumbing for a while, so she tried to enjoy it. But when she picked up a handtowel and noticed "home sweet home" embroidered on it, she felt a wave of uneasiness wash over her and hurried through her routine.

"Your turn," she said, opening the door.

Brandon was just as quick and visibly uncomfortable as she was.

"Let's check the kitchen - I really want to get out of here, but we should conserve our food as much as possible. If there's something to eat here, we should grab it."

Sophia nodded.

They were able to find a full jar of peanut butter, as well as a loaf of bread that was only a little stale. Sophia also grabbed a bag and stuffed it full of apples and carrots she found in the refrigerator.

Back out in the yard, they headed for the barn again and clambered into the hayloft with their loot.

"I think," Sophia said, washing her peanut butter sandwich down with a swig of water, "we should take a couple of these horses. The sooner we get to Dunedin, the better, but we can't go on the main roads."

Brandon eyed her silently. "Look," he finally said, "swiping a jar of peanut butter is one thing, but horses? Are we really going to steal horses?"

"Brandon," she answered patiently, "look around you. These people are gone, and they're not coming back. And even if they were, the world is about to end."

He chewed his sandwich thoughtfully.

"In fact," she added, "these horses obviously haven't been fed in days. I think we need to turn them all loose or they'll starve to death."

"Okay," he finally said in a small voice, stashing the rest of the peanut butter and bread in his pack. "Let's get going, then."

They hunted through the barn for the tack room, finding it in a back corner behind the stalls. There were four saddles, all in good condition. Riding bareback would have been fine, too, but they knew for a ride of this length, the saddles were important, especially if they wanted to be able to walk once they got to Dunedin. There was a time when they were both in good riding shape, but other than some recent rides around Paradise, neither had been on a horse in years.

They wandered through the barn, taking a close look at the horses. Sophia knew which one she wanted - she had known last night, the first time she had seen the chestnut mare, which whickered softly when she saw Sophia approaching. There was a wooden nameplate up above the stall, with the word "Ataahua" carved in it.

"Ataahua," Sophia murmured, stroking the horse's muzzle. "I'm going to guess that means beautiful, because you certainly are." She opened the gate and stepped into the stall. Ataahua stood patiently while Sophia slid the bit in her mouth and the bridle over her head, and then nudged Sophia gently with her nose.

Sophia laughed. "No hiding anything from you, is there?" she murmured, taking an apple out of her pocket and offering it to the horse, who lipped it softly out of her hand. "You look fast, girl," Sophia said then. "Can you run like the wind for me?" Chomping loudly, the horse dipped her head up and down, as if to agree, "Well then," Sophia said in surprise, "let's get you saddled up."

Brandon had chosen an enormous black stallion, who bit Ataahua lightly on the neck when she approached.

"Are you sure?" Sophia said doubtfully, eying the spirited horse.

"Absolutely," Brandon declared, hefting a blanket up on the horse's back. "Sometimes, you just know."

"What's his name?"

"Tai Nui," Brandon responded. "I have no idea what that means."

"Me either," Sophia answered, cinching the saddle in place. "Mine is Ataahua, and I would bet that means 'beautiful.' What language do they speak around here, anyway?"

"English," Brandon said absently, to an eye roll from Sophia, "but the aboriginal populations speak Maori, and I'm sure that's what language their names are in. The elves know it."

"Well, too bad there aren't any elves around to translate for us."

"Yeah," Brandon sighed, "too bad. Ready?"

Sophia nodded, handing Brandon the reins. She opened the barn door, and he walked the horses out into the yard while Sophia circled the barn, opening all the stalls. They climbed up into the saddles and headed out of the barnyard toward the trail.

They kept a wary eye out, scouring the landscape around them, but there was no sign of orcs or even humans, only the occasional cow dotting the hillside. They stopped after a couple of hours of hard riding to walk around and look on the map for the nearest water source. While Sophia could pull together water in a puddle, they knew the horses were going to need more than that soon.

They came to the small river they had found on the map early in the afternoon and stopped to let the horses drink and rest. Sophia draped the bridle over the pommel of the saddle and let Ataahua graze freely, and then Brandon did the same with his horse.

"You sure about that?" Sophia frowned, pulling another peanut butter sandwich out of the pack.

"I'm sure," Brandon answered. She shrugged and took out a couple of carrots, as well, and right away felt the warm nose of a horse at her shoulder.

"Hey girl," she chuckled. "So you like carrots, too?" But when she turned, it was the stallion standing there, eying the carrots with interest. She laughed again and held one out for him, which he took delicately in his teeth and promptly trotted away.

"Is that how you won him over?" Sophia asked her brother, who was sitting with his feet in the water.

"Yep," he responded, smiling up at her. "Works every time."

Even with the rest stops, they were making decent time; someone had taken good care of the horses, and they were in excellent physical shape. Sophia felt a wave of sadness overtake her at the thought that those people who had once loved these magnificent animals were likely dead now, but she ruthlessly tamped the thought down. She knew if she started going down that road, there might be no coming back.

"Hey, Brandon," she called out to him. "Should we find a place to hide for the night, or just push on to Dunedin?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I've been wondering the same thing all day. But if we're going to keep the horses, we should probably just keep going - it will be hard to hide them."

"Do you think the rings conceal them, too, while we're on them?"

"I have no idea," he sighed. "But I think the sooner we get there, the better."

"I agree," she nodded. "Let's press on."

It was a deep moonless dark by the time they arrived in the foothills above Dunedin. The city was spread out below them, and while there were some lights shining in the night, there were not as many as their should have been.

The siblings looked at each other.

"We have to go through it to get to the harbor," Brandon finally said.

"Now I think we should wait until morning," Sophia quickly followed. "What if the city's been taken over by orcs, like Kaka Point? Better to stay out here for now in open ground and wait until first light."

"Such sound reasoning," a voice rasped from behind them. "Your elven keepers would be so proud." They both whirled around to see a large Uruk Hai standing behind them, a muddy green gem glowing malevolently on his chest and throwing a sinister light under his features. A small band of orcs stood behind him in the darkness.

"Ride!" Sophia shouted, turning the horse in the opposite direction and digging her heels into Ataahua's flanks. But the horse shied, nearly throwing Sophia off, and once she had the horse back under control, she saw why. There were more orcs in front of them. Many more.

"We're surrounded," Brandon said in disbelief.

"Yes, you are," the Uruk Hai crowed, his laugh grinding through the night air. "We have been waiting here for you all night. Our scouts reported you were on your way, but I must say it took you long enough." The hulking monster looked like any other Uruk Hai - the gray flesh, mottled and scarred, the pointed, rotting teeth, and the beady red eyes. But Sophia thought there was also something familiar about him, the way he moved, the thin curl of his lips, his throaty voice, so unlike the Uruk Hai...

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Acharnor?"

"At your service," the Uruk Hai smirked, sketching a small bow.


	22. Chapter 22

_**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews and really helpful suggestions - FreeSpiritSeeker, MissMysteriousMe, Brandywine5, nice Guest, and the rockstar reviewer, BlondiezHere. **_

_**WARNING: Okay, this chapter is dark and violent, including an implied threat of sexual violence. So if that's not your taste, don't read and we promise to recap key plot elements at the start of the next chapter. **_

**Chapter 22: The Ellessarum**

"Now why don't you get down off those animals so we can have a little chat. Or we can just kill them and drag you off their lifeless corpses while we feast on their sweet flesh. Your choice," Acharnor said, absently picking at his teeth with a long, clawlike finger.

Sophia glanced around but saw no hope of escape and slowly slid off the horse. Brandon's feet thumped to the grass next to her.

Archarnor grunted something to the orcs, and two stepped forward. One, who stank of carrion, removed Sophia's pack and weapons, including the dagger on her forearm, which was shining bright blue. Then he pinioned her arms behind her back, tying her wrists tightly together. She glanced up and saw a small knot of orcs pulling everything out of their packs and rooting through their belongings.

"What are you going to do with us?" Sophia demanded, glaring at the corrupted elf.

His lips flared open, showing his fang-like teeth. "Nothing," he shrugged.

"You still won't be able to hold the Silmarils," she persisted, jutting her jaw out.

Acharnor shrugged. "I don't need to hold the Silmarils."

"Well, you sure wanted to before."

"Because I was weak," he spat, and then abruptly laughed, and Sophia's skin crawled on the back of her neck at the sound. "Do you have any idea how boring it is to be an elf? You just blow in the breeze, aimless, like leaves on a tree. It's all natural order, the Valar this, the Valar that, blah, blah, blah. But my new body is strong. I feel alive for the first time in my life, and now the wind flees before me." He laughed again and stroked the glowing stone on his chest. "And the elves can have their little baubles. My master has given me a powerful token for myself - perhaps it is time for you to experience the Ellessarum." He grasped the stone, and Sophia screamed, as unimaginable pain seemed to burst from inside her skull, firing along every nerve ending down her neck and across her shoulders. Falling to her hands and knees, retching, she could hear Brandon whimpering next to her. An orc grabbed her by the hair and forced her back to her feet, while another kicked Brandon and then dragged him up, too.

"Time to head down the hill, my dears. I might lock you up and continue these little entertainments. I might give you to my orcs to play with. Or I might just kill you. I haven't decided yet. My only instructions are to keep you and those accursed stones here; the rest is up to me."

Sophia bit the inside of her cheek hard, trying to stop herself from crying. She turned then to look at Brandon, and saw tears mixing with streaks of dirt, running down his face and dropping from his chin. She scooted closer to him and leaned her shoulder against his.

"Cute," Acharnor drawled. "Move." The orcs pushed them hard from behind, and they both stumbled forward, every step causing the ropes to cut painfully into their wrists.

The march down the mountain seemed to take hours, but Sophia wished it had taken much, much longer once they actually entered the city. It was bad enough to see a town full of orcs from a distance through binoculars; it was far worse to see it up close. The streets and sidewalks of Dunedin, which must have once been a charming town, were crowded with orcs. Like some perverse Mardi Gras celebration, the beasts hooted and growled and shook their fists as Sophia and Brandon were herded by, and every now and then one threw a rock or a bottle at the young humans. Acharnor just laughed, but he kept the raucous crowd from actually touching his captives, for the most part.

The shops and row houses gradually gave way to squat office parks and warehouses, and they paused outside a massive red and white-striped brick building, with barred windows, lead-capped turrets, and a sharply-peaked roof. Over the arch of the main doorway were two peeling signs, one that read "HM Prison" and the other "AD 1896."

"Here we are. I'm actually going to put you in jail," Acharnor announced. "Why not? At least while I figure out what to do with you." The orcs hauled Sophia and Brandon roughly up the steps and through the front door, which had been smashed off its hinges. Inside, broken furniture and papers littered the front vestibule. They were pushed and pulled to a dimly lit hallway with worn linoleum floors, glass crunching under their boots.

"Did you have to kill them all?" Brandon bit out angrily.

"I didn't kill them," Acharnor said nonchalantly. Sophia snorted derisively, and Acharnor spun her around, leaning only inches away from her face.

"You will show some respect," he growled, "or pay the price."

"How much worse can this possibly get?" she gritted out.

He stroked a gnarled finger down her face. "Oh," he purred, "it can get worse, princess. So very much worse."

Sophia felt the blood drain from her face, as Acharnor ran his tongue, which was grey and fleshy, slowly along his thin lips before leaning away from her.

"Let's keep moving," he said in a satisfied tone.

The corridor was lined with cells, each with a green, metal door. Acharnor finally pointed to the end of the hall, and the orcs pushed Sophia into one and Brandon into the next. In the meager light filtering in from the hallway through the bars at the top of the door, Sophia could see a battered steel toilet against one wall and a bare bunk bed frame against the other. There was a window that looked outside, gridded with small metal panes.

"By the way, boy," she heard Acharnor say to Brandon, "we didn't kill the good citizens of Dunedin. We just gave them a better life. In fact, you met many of them tonight."

His laughter seemed to linger like a bad odor in the hallway long after he had locked the doors and left them alone in the shadowy cells.

Sophia and Brandon stood in silence, both breathing heavily. Finally, Brandon spoke.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you think I'm okay?" she snapped at him.

"Are your bonds loose at all? Do you think you can wiggle out of them?"

"What would be the point?" Sophia answered bitterly. "Even if we found a way out of these cells, we're surrounded by thousands of orcs. We're completely, utterly trapped." She sat down, leaning her back against the wall.

Brandon began to pace the length of his cell, fidgeting with his bonds.

"There must be some way out," he declared. "Maybe when they come back, we can trick them or overpower them."

"Not going to happen," Sophia said.

"Come on, Soph," Brandon wheedled, leaning his head against the bars in the door. "Help me. We have to come up with a plan. We can't just sit here waiting like lambs to the slaughter."

She said nothing at all, staring fixedly at the floor. Brandon eventually resumed pacing and flexing his wrists and fingers. Then he stood by the window, peering out, but he could not see anything in the darkness through the filthy glass.

"I'm going to try to get some sleep," he finally announced. "I guess the floor would be better than mattress springs, huh?" Sophia still didn't answer. "Maybe you should try to get a little sleep, too," he added gently. "That way, we'll be ready when it's time to escape."

Sophia suddenly looked up sharply. Sleep, she thought. That was it! Maybe she could communicate something about their predicament to Legolas while she slept. But just as fast as hope had flooded her, it drained away, leaving her even emptier. What could Legolas possibly do? He had said they couldn't come back. All she would accomplish, if it even worked in the first place, would be adding to his burdens. Her shoulders sagged, and she let the tears flow freely down her face, taking care not to make any noise. With her hands tied behind her, she couldn't even take comfort from the spirit stone, which the orcs had left around her neck.

And then it dawned on her. That wasn't the only stone they had left her with; the Silmaril was still in her pocket. Nenya remained on her finger. Did Acharnor forget about them? That did not seem possible. But why, then?

She struggled to her feet and pressed her face against the bars.

"Brandon," she whispered urgently. "Brandon!"

"What?" he whispered back.

"Do you still have the Silmaril? Because I do. And the ring."

"Oh," he said in surprise. "I totally forgot. Yes, I have both."

"Why would he do that?" she asked. "Leave them with us?"

"I don't know," he said, and Sophia could tell he was thinking hard. "Maybe he just forgot?"

"Not a chance," Sophia shot back.

"Well," he reasoned, "they can't bear to touch them, but I don't think that would really stop Acharnor - he'd just as soon cut our fingers off to get the rings or have some poor orc burn his hands to ashes taking the stones from us. I don't know."

"Maybe," Sophia mused, "maybe he's confident that we can't get at them, and even if we did, there's nothing we could really do with them to get out of here."

"I'm going to try something," Brandon announced.

Sophia started to tell him not to do anything rash, that it was better not to attract any attention, but she knew it was too late for such caution when she smelled something burning.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer immediately, but finally muttered, "burning the ropes off with Narya."

"Wait," she protested, "let's think this through!"

But it was too late. Brandon's hands were free. "Sophia," he said slowly, "I could take the Silmaril out right now. I don't think I can use it to get us out of here, but what if it changes all the orcs in the area into hobbits? Or at least some of them? Wouldn't that be worth it? And maybe it would help us escape, if there weren't so many orcs."

"But Acharnor will know right away - he'll come for us."

"He'll come for us, anyway," Brandon said softly through the bars. "At least we'll be putting up a fight."

Sophia closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Okay," she finally said. "You're right. Let's do it."

The orange and yellow light of the unsheathed Silmaril streamed out through the bars in the door, warming the dingy corridor. Sophia leaned her head against the wall and let the energy flow over her, wrapping her mind in its joyous glow. She could feel the stone in her own pocket responding through the shield, and the cuts and bruises on her body and face began to heal. Even the spirit stone answered, and the memories of that peaceful glade whispered around her. Altogether, the effect was like sitting by a warm fire, a child again in her grandfather's safe embrace.

She was so entranced that she didn't hear the feet marching down the corridor and didn't realize that Acharnor was there until Brandon's door crashed into the wall with a loud clang.

"So," Acharnor said, sounding disturbingly calm, "I wondered how long it would be until you made such an unwise choice. Now, if you'll kindly put that thing away..."

"Why don't you do it for me?" Brandon taunted.

"Fine," Acharnor responded in a bored tone.

Brandon screamed.

"Will you put it away now?"

"No!" Brandon said through clenched teeth, and immediately began screaming again.

"We can do this all day," Acharnor commented, once Brandon's screaming had subsided into ragged gasps. "Or I can just go visit your sister."

"No, no," Brandon said weakly. "I'll put it away."

"Good," Acharnor responded, pausing. "But not good enough."

Sophia closed her eyes tightly as the horrible screaming and now abject pleading continued, for many long minutes, and she could also hear grunting and thumping sounds, which she feared meant the orcs were beating her brother. Finally, there was silence.

"Bran?" she asked tentatively.

"He passed out," Acharnor said, peering through the bars at her. "Such a weakling. How about you, princess? Want to get into it with me?"

"No," she said quietly.

"Well, let's take a little preventive action, anyway." He opened her cell door and stepped inside, two orcs crowding behind him in the doorway. He took the sickly green stone around his neck into his hand and stared hard at her.

Sophia felt as though her heart was stopping, and then restarting, each beat stabbing through her chest like a knife blade. Then her lower jaw started to ache, deep underneath her molars, before pain burst into bright flashes of agony behind her eyes.

When she came back to awareness, she was panting on the floor, sweat dripping off her face and down her back. Her jaw ached.

"More?" Acharnor asked.

"No, no more. No more."

"Beg me," he barked at her.

"Please, please, no more."

"No promises," he snickered. "But I'll let you rest a bit before we have some more fun. Oh, and do tell your brother that the Silmarils won't work around the Ellessarum, will you? Still, I find the noise they generate bothersome, and I do not wish to be bothered. Understand?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Beg me one more time. I liked the sound of it."

"Please don't hurt us again."

"Lord Acharnor."

"Lord Acharnor."

He swept out of the small cell, the orcs stepping back for him as he relocked the door.

"We will speak again soon, my dear, dear Sophia," he leered at her through the bars.

Brandon did not wake for many hours; daylight was filtering in through the grimy windows by the time Sophia finally heard him groan, and she scrambled to her feet.

"Brandon?" she called out through the bars.

He was coughing now, to the point of gagging. Sophia listened anxiously. Brandon had suffered from terrible nightmares when he was a little boy, and she used to crawl in bed next to him, put her arms around him, and sing until he fell asleep. She wished she could do that now.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked.

"Do you think I'm okay?" he said raggedly, chuckling a little at being able to throw her words back at her. "Maybe that wasn't such a good idea, after all. He didn't...he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, he left me alone," she reassured him.

"Liar, liar pants on fire," he sang softly. "And I probably could set your pants on fire, by the way, so you might as well just be straight with me."

"He used the Ellessarum on me," she admitted. "It was painful, but I'm okay now. How about you?"

"Just a little soft tissue damage," he sighed. "And they reinjured my arm - but it's not broken. I think. How long have I been out?"

"I don't know. It's hard to keep track of time in here. But it's been hours."

"Well, I hope you used the time wisely. Have you come up with a plan, yet?"

She laughed, and her eyes filled with tears at his effort to put on a brave face. "You always were single minded," she observed.

They were both silent for awhile, Sophia remaining at the door, her forehead against the bars.

"Brandon, I've been thinking..." she started.

"I knew it," he said.

"Can the Silmarils be destroyed? I mean, mine was in a volcano, and if it can survive that, I would think it can survive just about anything."

"Well, I don't know," he responded slowly. "It's a good question. I don't remember if there was anything in the books about that. The only thing I do remember is that Yavanna - that's one of the Valar - will break them when the world is ending. So, I guess they can be broken. Why do you ask?"

"Because I think that's what Acharnor is trying to figure out. He might just be keeping us alive until he can figure out how to destroy the stones."

"Could be," Brandon allowed.

"I think we'll know if they feed us."

"What do you mean?"

"If he thinks they need us in order to destroy the stones, they'll give us food. If he doesn't think so, I don't think they'll bother with stuff like that. And while he'll come down here and torture us from time to time just to remind us that he can, I don't think he'll actually kill us unless he's pretty sure he can destroy the Silmarils without us."

"Sounds reasonable," Brandon coughed. "But just one thing: I don't think he's just trying to prove he has power over us with the Ellasarum. I think he actually enjoys it."

"Maybe," she said.

"Soph," Brandon cleared his throat, "I could see into his mind. Not sure why - maybe he wanted me to - but I could tell that he liked hurting me. It made him feel good."

"Well, that's...disturbing," she said lamely, falling silent.

"Yeah. So, think about how we can get out of this, will you?"

They sat in their cells in silence for awhile, before Brandon, sounding steadier, finally said, "I wonder what Elanordis is doing right now?"

Sophia thought of her vision with a pang, and debated telling her brother what she had seen.

"Brandon," she started slowly, "I had a weird dream, up in the hayloft in that barn..."

She told him then what she could remember, the images of slaughtered silver-haired elves, and her theory that she was somehow seeing what Legolas was seeing.

"Could be," Brandon mused. "That does sound like Alqualonde, the main port city, and most of the elves who live there would look like Celeborn. There's not supposed to be any link between Valinor and here, but the Valar bend the rules sometimes when they want to on that. They always have. That's how Glorfindel ended up here."

"Tell me about it," Sophia said, finally sitting down near the door. "We have time. Well, as far as we know, we do."

Brandon told her then the story of the hidden kingdom of Gondolin, and the elf who betrayed his kin and let Melkor into the city. Glorfindel had been the head of one of Gondolin's noble houses - the House of the Golden Flower - and he had killed a Balrog during the siege in order to let survivors escape, including Earendil's parents. Unfortunately, Glorfindel was caught in the Balrog's death throes and dragged to a fiery end. Then the Valar sent him back, many years later, and he had helped Elrond prevail in the War of the Ring.

"Do you think he remembers what it was like to die?"

"I'm not sure, but I hope not. I think they're only allowed out of the Halls of Mandos - that's kind of like Valhalla for elves - if they've cleansed their spirit or something. So maybe they forget their memories of death."

"Poor Glorfindel," Sophia said. "I know he lost his wife and children, but I didn't realize he lost himself, too. Did he originally come from Valinor?"

"Yes," Brandon answered. "I think so. I actually think Glorfindel was one of the original elves to be awakened, but his beginnings are a little mysterious."

"Huh," Sophia grunted. "Do you think he does all that wise guy stuff on purpose then? To kind of throw people off the trail?"

"Maybe," Brandon said. "Or it may just be who he is - maybe being alive for 30,000 years, or however long it's been, doesn't make you all saintly, like some ascetic on a mountainside. Maybe you just get more...you. Who knows?" He paused. "Have you seen any other visions since that first time?"

"I haven't really slept much," she admitted.

"Well, why don't you try now? I'm going to be fine and the orcs probably won't bother us for awhile - they don't like daylight. Maybe you'll see something good."

"I'm not sure I want to take a chance," she sighed. "It was pretty awful. And I don't want Legolas to know we're in trouble, either - at first, I did, but then I realized there's nothing he can do about it. Right?"

"Probably not," Brandon agreed. "But anyway, just get some rest."

Sophia slept fitfully on the concrete floor, and while she did have some nightmares, they were all about orcs, so it was hard to say if those were images from Valinor or from her own experiences. She woke up abruptly when she realized Brandon was calling her name.

Blinking her eyes open, she realized it was dark again, so she must have slept more than she thought she did.

"Someone's coming, Soph," her brother said urgently.

"Okay," she answered softly, "I'm awake."

There was the sound of a key in Brandon's door, and then a clattering of metal. Sophia heard a few slapping and grunting sounds and suspected her brother was getting beaten again. A few minutes later, she heard the key in the door to her cell, and shrank back behind the bed frame.

Two orcs entered, one holding a tray, which it dropped on the floor. The other looked at her, a cruel glint in its eye, and it crossed the room and grabbed her hair. The beast dragged her across the room toward the other orc, and the both kicked her a few times in the face and torso before leaving as suddenly as they had arrived.

She lay still on the floor, pressing her aching face to the cool floor.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked, in a shaking voice.

She cleared her throat. "Not bad, all things considered."

"What things?" Brandon said in disbelief.

"They brought us food. That means they want us alive. At least for now."

Acharnor did not appear that night, much to their relief, though he did come by the next morning. They spent the afternoon recovering, which largely meant Brandon told Sophia more of the history of their friends and family. When night fell, the orcs arrived promptly with food, which was an unappetizing mix of stale bread and rotting vegetables, as well as some greasy looking water in an old soup can.

Sophia slept uneasily that night, with flashing images of battle. There were elves clashing with waves of orcs, and she was pretty sure she saw familiar faces. Then the elves suddenly looked up at the sky fearfully, their mouths opening wide in screams, and they ran. Later, she was looking off the walls of a majestic grey castle at a great plain, filled with advancing orcs, and some kind of four-legged creature, the sun glinting off its dull metal hide. There was a Balrog in their midst.

"Bad dreams?" Acharnor said silkily, and she realized he was standing in her cell.

"No," Sophia gasped, and then thought better of it. "Yes," she admitted.

"I do hope I'm in them," he said, lowering his head and flicking his tongue out. Sophia's heart clenched in fear.

"I saw Valinor," she said frantically, thinking that there was no reason not to tell him, and that it might distract him.

"What?" he asked, standing up straight.

"I saw a battle, between orcs and elves, with something attacking from the sky, and the elves ran. Then another battle from a grey castle. There were machine animals, and there was a Balrog."

Acharnor stared at her, stroking his chin, which was lumpy with warts and clumps of wispy hair, like a pimply adolescent who couldn't quite grow a beard. He left abruptly then, without using the Ellessar, and didn't come back until the next day.

"So," he said to her through the bars of her door, "it looks as though you may have the family gift of sight. The orcs and drones did defeat elves in battle two days ago, and they continue to fight for Tirion. What else have you seen?"

A knot of pain, as sharp as a brand fresh from the forge, flared at the base of her skull. "Nothing!" she cried, clasping her hands to her head.

"What have you seen?" he demanded again, and the pain was white hot, causing her vision to black out momentarily.

"Nothing since I saw you last," she sobbed. "Before you caught us, I saw a city destroyed. Brandon said it sounded like...like..."

"Alqualonde," Brandon spat out angrily from his cell.

"Well, well," Acharnor said. "Good. Then you know it is hopeless. Middle Earth has already fallen to Melkor; he has driven the elves away and has turned most of the human population into orcs. Soon, Aman will fall to him, too. The Valar have abandoned Ea, and the elves will soon have nowhere left to go. They will either submit or die. And so will you."

"I will never submit," Brandon said quietly.

"Then you will die," Acharnor shrugged, flicking his fingers toward the young human and sending him to the floor in a seizure.

"I'll come by to see you tomorrow, my sweet," he said to Sophia. "And you will tell me what else you see."

Brandon did not regain consciousness until late afternoon.

"Thank God you're alive," Sophia sniffled, when she heard Brandon groaning, "I wasn't sure, after what Acharnor said."

"Fit as a fiddle," Brandon's hoarse voice floated out of the cell weakly.

"Oh, Brandon, why did you have to bait him like that?" Sophia demanded tiredly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Have to keep my spirits up somehow," he sighed. "Have you figured out how we're going to escape yet?"

"No, Brandon," Sophia responded softly. "There's still no way out."

Just then, they heard the tramping of the orcs down the hall.

"Dinnertime," Brandon observed, sounding stronger. "I hope they cooked my steak medium rare this time."

Sophia snorted. "Try not to provoke them, okay?" she said softly.

Sophia heard the key rattling in the door, but only one orc stepped in, and he held a finger up to his thin, gray lips, beckoning her forward.

"You come," he whispered, once she had stood up. She stepped forward warily, expecting to be punched or kicked, but this orc did neither. He just waved her toward the door. Sophia stepped cautiously out into the hall, followed closely by the orc, only to see that Brandon was also in the hall with another orc.

"Follow," the orc behind her whispered. Brandon, limping slightly, nodded at her.

Silently, they trailed the lead orc down the hallway and back out to the vestibule, where half a dozen other orcs were reclining on the broken furniture, eating some kind of raw meat - Sophia did not want to know what kind of meat - and drinking what looked like the entire top shelf of a bar. One of the lounging orcs looked up at them and frowned, grunting something at their captors. Their escort snarled back at him, with a thump to his chest. The room erupted into growls and shrieks, and all the orcs were on their feet, waving their arms at each other. Finally, the orc they were following pulled out a short sword, dripping with some kind of venom, and swiped it across the nearest orc's neck, which exploded in a fountain of black blood. All the other orcs backed off, and then sat back down and continued eating and drinking, as if nothing had happened.

"Go," the orc behind Sophia barked at her, pushing her roughly between the shoulder blades.

They stepped out of the building and down the stairs, into an incongruously pleasant summer evening. The orcs kept marching the siblings forward and down the street, around the corner, and into a parking lot full of abandoned cars. As they approached a van with tinted windows, the door suddenly slid open, and the orcs pushed Brandon and Sophia inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

The van roared to life and sped away, out of the parking lot.

Brandon was the first to recover, as Sophia's hands were still tied behind her back. He sat up and looked around the van, but other than the driver, there was no one there. The orc in the front seat looked in the rear view mirror and said, "you safe now. I friend. You rest. Here," it handed back a knife. "You free sister."

Brandon looked at the knife and saw that it was his own, the one Elrond had given him as a child. The curve of the blade was the same, the pattern on the hilt, even the dent in the bottom from when he had dropped it rock climbing. And then he realized that there was just one thing different: it was not glowing blue, despite the presence of an orc. There was just a faint flicker of light, which could have been a reflection.

"Kill him," Sophia whispered. "Kill him now before it's too late."

"No," Brandon whispered back. "I think he's on our side."

He sawed the blade carefully through the ropes on Sophia's hands, and winced when he saw the damage they had done. She had huge open sores on both wrists, and they were puffy and red. She cried out as she tried to move her arms, eventually cradling her hands in front of her.

"I've been trying to move my fingers, keep the circulation going," she moaned, "but it hasn't been enough." She cried out again and rocked back and forth, Brandon holding her and rubbing her back. Meanwhile, the van sped over the debris-strewn street, bumping and swerving along. Finally, they screeched to a halt in a cul-de-sac, and the orc came back into the cabin.

"Here," he said, holding out a sword to Brandon, "this yours. And this yours," he thrust a blade out toward Sophia, who was unable to take it from him.

"I'll hold it for her," Brandon assured him, taking both blades, and then Sophia's knife, too, when the orc held that out.

He opened the door for them, and Brandon and Sophia jumped out into the moonlight, only to see a large crowd waiting for them at the edge of the woods beyond the cul-de-sac. Sophia gasped and shrank back.

"See?" someone said, stepping forward. "I told you I would find you." At first, as Sophia squinted at the shadowy, broad build of the creature in front of them, Sophia thought it was an Uruk Hai, albeit a well spoken one. But as he stepped into the moonlight, she realized he must be an elf. He had the long, shiny hair and pointed ears, though his hair was midnight black and his features more rugged than any elf she had ever seen. In fact, he had stubble, a hairy, barrel chest, and very large feet, all of which she'd never seen before on an elf. She peered at his eyes, which were very dark and long-lashed, and she gasped again, but this time not in fear.

"Braichon?" she said, voice trembling.

"I knew you would recognize me!" he said, with a smile that now came easily to him. He gestured to the woman standing next to him, who also had long, dark hair, wide set dark eyes and a strong chin. "And you remember Andrew, right?"

Andrew held out a hand, and Sophia took it hesitantly.

"Not too creepy, right?" the former Uruk Hai said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"You..." Brandon stuttered, "You're female."

"Yes, it would appear so," Andrew agreed.

"Maybe we'd better call you Andi from now on," Sophia said, with a slightly hysterical giggle.

"We should go," Braichon said, now serious. He gestured to some changeling orcs in the woods, and Sophia's heart leapt in her chest at the sight of Ataahua and Tai Nui, who both snorted at them. "My scouts saw you taken in the hills, and they picked up everything of yours the orcs discarded, including the horses. I thought you might like to ride." He helped them both mount, frowning at Sophia's inability to hold the reins. "What is wrong with your hands?"

"They've been tied behind her back for three days," Brandon answered, rubbing his own sore arm.

Braichon's frown deepened, and he peered more closely at the siblings, drawing in a sharp breath. "I apologize for your suffering," he finally said in a low voice. "We should have gotten you out sooner."

"Are you kidding?" Sophia suppressed another incongruous giggle. "I didn't expect to ever leave that place, certainly not alive, and definitely not on horseback. I'm thinking about naming my first child after you."

Braichon stared at her aghast. "You are with child?"

"Oh no, no," Sophia said hastily. "It's just an expression. It means I'm very, very grateful."

"Oh," Braichon muttered, blushing. "You are welcome, but you really should not thank me just yet. Acharnor will realize you are gone soon, and he will come after us. We're ready to fight him, of course, but I'd like to get as many of these changelings to Valinor alive as I can."

With that, he gave a loud whistle, and the host of former orcs and Uruk Hai loped into the woods, clustered around the two humans on horseback.


	23. Chapter 23

_**AN: Quick recap of the last chapter... Acharnor and the former inhabitants of Dunedin, who have all been turned into orcs, capture Sophia and Brandon in the hills above the city. They lock the siblings away in a crumbling, defunct prison building, where the orcs beat them and Acharnor tortures them with the Ellessarum, which also suppresses the power of the rings and the Silmarils. The situation looks hopeless for Sophia and Brandon, until two recent changelings, who can still pass for orcs, help them escape the prison and bring them to Braichon. As Braichon and his large group of changelings - including Andrew, who is revealed to be female - were making the way to Gray Havens, some of his scouts stumbled on the capture of Sophia and Brandon. Now, they are all fleeing together.**_

**Chapter 23: Cirdan the Shipwright**

At first, the northern fork of Otago Bay was a rough tangle of coastal shrub and stubborn trees, their gnarled branches shaking at the huddled group like scolding fingers. It was slow going, particularly since they had to clear a path for the horses. Braichon insisted that Sophia and Brandon remain mounted, however, and while they were at first touched by his concern, he informed them that he judged it would be faster that way, given their poor physical condition. Three days of torture, inadequate food, and polluted water had left them both swaying tiredly in the saddle.

Sophia, however, felt exhilarated, even if it didn't show. She knew they would either escape on the ship, or die trying. She continued flexing her hand, determined to get to the point where she could grip the sword by the time they reached the harbor. There was little chance she or Brandon would be of much use in a fight right now, but she was determined that Acharnor would never take her prisoner again.

"Shouldn't there be a road to the harbor?" she whispered to Braichon, who walked next to her, holding her horse's reins.

"I think there used to be," he answered, brow furrowed. "Back in the first age, when I was an elf, I seem to remember there were not many boats, so there was definitely a land route. But maybe it has just been easier to keep the Havens protected from accidental discovery these days if there is only water access."

"It's going to take us forever to get there at this rate..." Sophia started.

"You remember being an elf?" Brandon interrupted excitedly.

"Not really. It is better not to," Braichon answered evasively, and they continued on in silence.

A low-hanging branch nearly swept Sophia off her saddle, and as she reached up to push it away, her eyes fell on Nenya, The ring was pulsing slowly in the moonlight, and she stared at the opaque white stone as it flashed gently translucent every few seconds.

"Brandon," she called out softly, "is your ring flashing?"

He looked down at his hand, and then back up at her, eyes wide. He nodded.

Sophia guided Ataahui closer and reached out her hand to her brother, and he strained over the horses to reach her. They both closed their eyes as they held hands, and Sophia soon opened hers with a smile, as the stallion stamped impatiently.

"There is still a path, Braichon," she said in a normal speaking voice. "And it is only visible to elves - or apparently to someone wearing the elven rings. It is ahead of us to our right, at about two o'clock." She pointed in the right direction.

The rings started to flash faster as soon as they turned toward the path. After about a half hour of continued bushwhacking, a changeling at the front of the line took a mighty swipe at some vines and promptly tumbled forward, disappearing from sight.

"It is here!" he cried.

The large party pushed eagerly through the foliage and popped out onto a wide, sandy path, glowing gently in the moonlight.

"I feel it," Braichon said wonderingly as he stepped onto the path, looking down at his feet.

"Me, too," Andi smiled, glancing around at her comrades, most of whom had been human before they were forced into being orcs, and so the path did not respond to them the same way. "The road is happy we have come. That's what it feels like."

"Now, we can go faster," Braichon declared. "Everyone, move out!" They started down the path at a steady jog, Sophia and Brandon trotting along on their horses.

Soon, the path widened and then turned away from the woods and merged with a long, white sand beach that sparkled like the bright stars above. Gray Havens stretched out before them at the far end of the beach, the weathered docks and white houses still and silent, but for the lapping of the waves against the sand. There was a small movement up the beach, and squinting into the distance, Sophia could see a figure rapidly approaching them. Soon, they could tell he was tall, dressed in light-colored robes, with moonlight glinting off his silver hair. As he came nearer, they could see that not only was his hair silver, so was the long beard on his weathered face.

"Who is that?" Sophia asked.

"It's Cirdan the Shipwright," Brandon answered in an awed voice.

"Is he an elf?" Sophia asked doubtfully. "I didn't think they could grow beards."

"He's an elf all right," Brandon answered. "The oldest in Middle Earth."

"Greetings, Travelers," the ancient elf intoned, his face was stern and his deep voice echoed in the night air. "I have been waiting for you." Then he narrowed his eyes and stared at the two humans, his eyes sliding to Brandon's hands on the reins. "Narya," he whispered. "Who are you and how did you come to have the ring?" Then he stiffened. "Both rings," he amended.

Brandon cleared his throat. "Lord Cirdan, we are the last of Numenoreans. We left here days ago on Vingilote, but Melkor was able to sweep us into the water right before the transit to Valinor, and we were captured by Orcs near Dunedin."

"By the Valar," Cirdan murmured, stepping back in surprise. "Of course, I should have recognized you. I apologize. I was not aware... Do you..." he hesitated, clenching his fists, "do you still have the Silmarils?"

"Yes," Sophia responded, and Cirdan closed his eyes in relief.

Braichon cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but we are very likely being pursued by Acharnor and about 10,000 orcs. Maybe more. We should go."

"Indeed," Cirdan said gravely. "Acharnor knows how to find the path, but they have not yet reached it. Nonetheless, I sense that we will not have much time. Come." And with that, he spun around fluidly and strode away from them, so fast that the horses had to canter to keep up with him.

As they entered the town, they could see a single ship moored at the docks, its shining white sails already unfurled and waiting.

"There are some provisions for the journey already loaded," Cirdan said to Braichon, "but there are more of you than I expected. That warehouse there," he pointed to the building closest to the ship, "has more food and water. You should have your people load about ten pallets of each. Also, there is hay in the next building over; you should take enough for two horses for a week."

"We can take the horses?" Sophia asked, her heart leaping into her throat.

Cirdan inclined his head. "Of course," he answered. "I will load them myself if you would care to dismount."

Sophia and Brandon slowly climbed down from their mounts, Brandon falling to his knees with a gasp of pain. One of his beatings had resulted in a broken ankle, and he was not able to fully support his own weight, now that the adrenaline of their escape had drained away.

Cirdan's expression never changed as he approached the siblings. He offered Brandon a hand up, and then laid his own hands first on Brandon's swollen ankle, and then his arm. A pale red light rose out around them, dissipating when Cirdan removed his hands. Brandon flexed his ankle and looked at Cirdan appreciatively.

The shipwright turned then to Sophia, taking her gently by the wrists, and this time a filmy white light flickered around them. Sophia felt warmth rushing through her, and heard a melodious, tinkling sound, almost like a distant wind chime blowing in a breeze. For a moment, she wasn't sure her feet were even on the Earth anymore; she felt weightless, as though she were floating on a current.

"You healed us," she breathed, when Cirdan removed his hands and the light died out.

"Yes," he agreed. "I have not Elrond's true talent for such things, but I am nonetheless quite capable, and the rings gave me aid." He looked at the two young humans, his eyes fathomless. "Though there are some things even I cannot heal."

"We'll be alright," Brandon quietly assured the shipwright, taking Sophia's hand in his.

Cirdan bowed slightly. "Come. You are hungry and thirsty. I will show you to food and drink on board the ship before I settle the horses in the hold."

Sophia and Brandon were relaxing in the cabin, having eaten as much as their shrunken stomachs could take, when Cirdan appeared noiselessly in the doorway.

"They come. You will stay on the ship."

The siblings sprang to their feet, quickly strapping their swords back on.

"Did you not hear me? I said you will stay," Cirdan repeated.

Sophia shook her head, glaring at the ancient elf, who filled the doorway.

"We're fighting," Brandon declared.

Cirdan cocked his head, as though listening to something. "I seriously doubt it," he answered evenly, "but you may come up on deck, if you like." He turned and strode up the stairs, Brandon and Sophia scrambling after him.

"What did he mean by that?" Sophia grumbled to her brother. "Is he planning to sit on us or something?"

"If need be," Cirdan intoned, without looking over his shoulder.

"Elves have really good hearing," Brandon said, deadpan.

"So I've heard," Sophia answered dryly.

As they came up on deck, Sophia peered around nervously, but there was no sign of trouble. The light of the setting moon shone on the water, which rippled quietly around the boat. The changelings had finished loading the extra supplies and were now teeming on the dock, waiting to board the ship. Braichon was standing next to the ship, guiding his flock to line up in orderly rows.

"I wonder who he was before?" Brandon said quietly.

"It is best not to think on it," Cirdan responded, unconsciously echoing Braichon himself. "Nothing good can come of it."

"But I'm sure he has family somewhere," Sophia insisted, "and they'd want to know what happened to him. That he's still alive."

"He is not," Cirdan responded, his eyes on the far end of the beach. "The elf he was is forever lost. His soul is newborn, and so the rest of his life must be, too. No good can come of dwelling on a past that will never be again." He paused and stared at them, his eyes burning like smoldering coals. "You must remember that the only thing that matters now is getting the Silmarils to Ezellohar. Tell me you understand?" They both nodded, shrinking back instinctively from the intensity of his words and the radiance building around him. He glanced up the beach. "They come. You must brace yourselves."

"Why?" Sophia asked, frowning out into the night, straining to see what the ancient elf sensed. Then a wave of pain slammed into her, giving way to a ripping sensation that stabbed into her skin from her toes to her fingernails. She heard Brandon cry out. They both sank to the deck, writhing in agony.

"I am sorry, my children," Cirdan said softly, "that I am unable to protect you from this pain."

The orcs were pouring out of the woods now and onto the sand, led by Acharnor, the Ellessarum flaring on his chest. Braichon looked up, and cried to his comrades to move faster onto the boat, glancing worriedly at Brandon and Sophia.

"What is wrong with them?" He asked Cirdan, when the elf stepped down to his side on the dock.

"It is Acharnor. He has an artifact around his neck - it is a corrupted elven stone, which Melkor has imbued with the power to inflict pain and evil."

Braichon frowned. "I feel nothing," he observed.

"No, you and your people are immune," Cirdan agreed.

"As are you?"

"No," Cirdan said shortly. "I am not immune."

Braichon's eyes widened as he stared at the ancient elf.

"You understand the ship will not be able to cast off in time to get away without a fight?" Cirdan asked.

"I do," Braichon nodded. "Selina!" he bellowed, "Now, now, it is time!"

Suddenly, a group of heavily armed changelings charged out of the woods, further up the beach, ambushing the orc army at a narrow point in the spit and cutting off their advance. Immediately, the clang of swords, shouts and screams of killing and dying, boomed and echoed off the water. Braichon watched the battle, looking anxiously over his shoulder at Sophia and Brandon, who were now whimpering on the deck, both curled up and shaking.

"He's going to kill them," Braichon suddenly realized.

"He is going to try," Cirdan agreed.

"You," Braichon growled, gesturing to the changelings still milling uncertainly on the docks, "get on the ship. Cast off as soon as everyone is on." He turned and sprinted down the dock.

Cirdan watched the changeling go, impassive. "I should so have liked to see the light of Valinor just once in my life," he finally sighed, moving swiftly after the former Uruk Hai.

Braichon screamed in fury as he crashed into the battling orcs, cutting through them to get to Acharnor, who merely sneered at him.

"Do you think for a second, traitor," Acharnor shouted at him over the din, "that you can threaten one who has all the power of the mightiest of the Valar at his fingertips?" He laughed insanely, and grabbed the stone. The sounds of the screaming humans carried over the water, and Braichon bellowed in anger. But then, he heard a voice in his mind.

_Leave him to me_, Cirdan said. _Get your people on the boat and get the humans to Valinor, or we are all doomed. Go, now! Go!_

Braichon winced as the power of Cirdan's command throbbed in his head. He stabbed out at the orcs in front of him, and then suddenly turned and ran, calling on the changelings to retreat.

"That's right!" Acharnor shouted. "Flee! Run for your lives! But there will be no mercy! I will kill you all!"

Braichon looked back over his shoulder as they ran, his eyes widening at what he saw. A wall of white flame stretched out across the entire beach on either side of Cirdan, who blazed orange and yellow and blue at its core like a flame rising into the night. He was blockading the entire beach. The first orcs who ran into his wall of white or raised their weapons against it promptly fell screaming to the ground, their bodies wreathed in a white and blue smoke as they were burnt to ashes.

_I cannot hold this for long_, he heard Cirdan's sibilant voice whisper through his thoughts. _You must get as far out to sea as possible._

_But you will die!_ Braichon thought in despair.

_Yes_, Cirdan agreed. _But I, too, will have a second chance if you succeed._

_Do not let them take you alive,_ Braichon thought urgently.

_I will not be taken,_ Cirdan assured him. _Good bye, changeling. You have an important role to play in the events to come; I wish you good fortune_.

Braichon had reached the ship and leapt to the deck, yelling instructions at the changelings on board. Andi, out on the dock, cast off all the lines and also vaulted onto the boat, and it slowly began to move out of the slip.

"Not fast enough," Braichon sputtered. "We're not going to be far enough away." He looked desperately up the beach at Cirdan, squinting against the bright light. At the center of the light, the shimmering shape of Cirdan suddenly flared brighter, and Braichon saw a pinprick of sickly, glowing green fly up into the air and off the beach, rocketing out into the water with a loud plunk. The white light then exploded, and all of the changelings cried out, shielded their eyes, and covered their ears against Acharnor's piercing scream of rage.

Braichon, Andi, and all the former Uruk Hai among them clutched their chests, or dropped their heads, or even wept as they felt the ancient elf's spirit explode like a supernova and dissipate in sparks of white dust blowing up into the air and fizzling out like a miniature meteor shower.

"What's happening?" Sophia wailed, hauling herself to her feet and clutching the rail. "What has he done?"

"He has given us a chance," Braichon told her, gripping her shoulder. "Are you able to use the ring now to get us away from the shore, or are you too weak?"

Sophia stared in horror at the shore, and Braichon gave her a little shake. "The only way to honor his sacrifice is to get to Valinor with the Silmarils. The Silmarils!" He exclaimed. "Unshield them!"

"But the Ellessarum," Brandon groaned, still curled up on the deck.

"Cirdan has taken it from him. At least for now. Please," Braichon said desperately at the dull glaze of Sophia's eyes. "You must use the stones and the rings to get us out of here."

She continued to stare hollowly at him, as if still entangled in a nightmare. Braichon could see over her shoulder that there were already hundreds of orcs in the water, fast swimming toward them. Desperately, he jammed his hand into Sophia's pocket and pulled out the kona box, wincing when the stone's vibrations trembled through his hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to Sophia, who had reeled away from him at his touch on her thigh. He opened the box and took a deep breath, as the cool blue and purple shine of the Silmaril streamed out, and then held his breath and closed his eyes as he took the stone in his hand.

A few seconds later, he opened one eye cautiously and peered at the stone, letting his breath out noisily.

"It does not burn me!" he exclaimed, laughing in wonder. "See?" he held it out on his flattened palm to show Sophia.

"Of course not," she said softly, "why would it burn you?"

He smiled and gestured to her with the stone, and she took it from him gently, sighing with a slight shiver as its light enfolded her. Brandon sat up on the deck, fumbling with his hand in his pocket, and then he, too, took out the fire stone. The ship was now speeding away from the shore, water frothing from stem to stern and spraying up over the passengers. Even as the shoreline quickly dropped from view, they could hear Acharnor's furious howl thundering after them across the water.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Sic Transit Gloria Mundi**

**_AN: Enchanted Stream, thanks so much for the head's up that I made Scrooge McDuck's shit list. I am the primary author on this, though Pheas works it with me, and I'm writing this for a specific person, who loves it. At the same time, it's just great that other people enjoy it, too. I'm only human - I wish more people read it and liked it. So, I'm ready for feedback, if there are things I could be doing better. I'm an amateur fiction writer, after all. As long as my number one fan keeps wanting more, though, I'll keep writing, but I'd certainly like to improve. On the other hand, if your idea of constructive criticism is just to tell me how much I suck, please don't bother. Get some therapy instead._**

The orc-infested shoreline dropped away as the boat sped toward the horizon, which was glowing with the break of a new dawn. The passengers all watched in silent anticipation as the great, orange disk of the sun emerged.

Suddenly, the half-risen sun started to shimmer and shake, and Sophia blinked hard. She rubbed at her eyes, as the entire dome of the sky seemed to quiver. Small pinpricks of light started appearing all around them, then rushing past in dizzying streaks. Sophia was about to speculate that it might be Cirdan, somehow still helping them, when the glare grew suddenly very bright, and then disappeared altogether, as if the whole ship had been swallowed into a black hole. They floated, suspended in an inky darkness, void of all light or sound. Sophia clutched the ship's rail, about to scream into the emptiness to prove to herself that she was still alive, when the air around them lightened, first to indigo and then a deep blue. Soon, they were back on the water, in daylight, only the sun was gone from the horizon. Or, more precisely, it was no longer in front of them, but now fully risen and high overhead.

They all looked around in wonder. They were in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight, but it was clear they were in a different place, and not just because the sun was at its zenith. The water was a bright turquoise, with gently rippling waves and none of the turbulence of the steely Pacific Ocean. The air felt somehow lighter, as though gravity's pull had relaxed, and Sophia felt almost dizzy as she drew in a deep breath through her nose.

"The air," Brandon murmured excitedly, "it's cleaner, more oxygenated - can you feel it?"

"Is that what that is?" she responded, shading her eyes and peering at the horizon. "What just happened back there? Where are we?"

"We," Braichon responded with sparkling eyes, "are in Aman."

Sophia closed her eyes and eagerly relaxed her thoughts, reaching out for Legolas. But she could sense nothing, beyond a very faint buzzing feeling at the base of her skull.

"Are you sure?" she asked, opening her eyes and frowning at the changeling. She noticed Brandon was also frowning.

"Well," Braichon responded, lips pursed, "I cannot be certain, of course, as I have never been here. But you told me the elven fleet made the jump about an hour off the shore, and something significant just happened to us. So it is a reasonable guess, no? And, well, I feel different. I imagine everyone does..." he trailed off, looking around at the crowd on the deck, his eyes widening.

Sophia followed his gaze with a choking sound. Their traveling companions had been in various stages of transformation when they boarded the boat, with Braichon by far the most advanced, given his repeated exposure to the Silmarils. Many of the passengers still had the grayish skin or pointed teeth of an orc, but fully half were now short and humanoid looking, with round bellies, big feet, and merry, winking eyes; they were unmistakably hobbits. Sprinkled throughout were those who had been Uruk Hai, now looking more like short, earthy elves than they did orcs. Andi was not the only female among them.

Brandon stared down at the Silmaril, still in his hand. "Did we just speed up their metamorphosis with the stones, or do you think it's because we're in Valinor?" he wondered aloud.

Braichon and Andi looked at each other and then shrugged.

"Well, here we come to the rescue," Sophia warbled, "with our hobbit army. They'll be so relieved to see us." Brandon guffawed.

She frowned at her brother. "Can you feel Elanordis?" She finally blurted out.

He shook his head slowly.

"Me either," she told him.

"We're probably just out of range," the uneasy expression on his face belied his reassuring words.

"Probably," she agreed faintly, crossing her arms and staring out to sea. A light but persistent breeze was driving them unerringly forward, though they had no idea which direction they were traveling anymore.

"Cirdan said we would need food for a week," Brandon added, nodding sharply, as if trying to convince himself.

"Yeah," Sophia answered, "but I was seeing images of Valinor within a day of their departure, remember?"

Brandon shrugged. "Well, let's just assume the best, okay? After all, this can't be worse than the situation we were just in."

Sophia bit her lip to stop herself from saying "famous last words." Instead, she suggested they shield the Silmarils and put them away. If they were in Valinor, she thought there was no sense in advertising their location to their enemies. They didn't want the wrong kind of welcome wagon when they reached the shore. Brandon readily agreed.

They sailed on through the clear skies, the ship seething with activity. There were hobbits everywhere, fiddling with the rigging, climbing aloft to see if they could see anything, cleaning the decks, dancing amidships. And eating. They were always eating.

"I hope we have enough food," Sophia muttered to Brandon as they sat in the relative peace of the ships's prow, listening to the laughter of the hobbits floating on the night air.

"Me, too," Brandon sighed. "But Cirdan was a very wise guy - I bet he got the provisions right."

"I feel really bad about what happened to him," Sophia said softly, perching her chin on her knees. "It's like everyone who tries to help us, everyone we care about or who cares about us, dies. Or goes crazy and then dies."

Brandon put his arm around her shoulder. "It's a war, Sophie," he said softly. "People die."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" She snorted, but she leaned into his embrace.

"What's going to happen now?" She finally asked.

"I don't know," her brother responded. "No one really does. Tolkien didn't write too much about this part, and his son actually cut it from the books. But from what I remember, there's supposed to be a final battle for dominion of the Earth with Melkor. If we can get the Silmarils to the right place, it will bring the Valar to the battle, and that should tip the balance solidly toward the light, no matter what allies and weapons Melkor has. "

"And then what?"

"Then the world will end, I guess," he said softly.

"So, basically, even if we win, it's Armageddon and we're all wiped out?"

"I don't know, Sophia."

"Are we sure we're doing the right thing, here? I mean, what if it's returning the Silmarils to Valinor that guarantees we all die? Maybe we should have stayed back in New Zealand, or gone back to Los Angeles, and just kept them hidden," Sophia said.

Brandon gave her shoulders a squeeze, wishing she would stop talking.

"Maybe this is a mistake, and we're handing Melkor exactly what he wants. I just can't believe that the higher intent here is genocide."

"I think," Brandon said, rubbing at the back of his head, "we're just going to accept that we don't know Iluvatar's plan. And if that's too esoteric for you, you'll have to trust that Elrond and Glorfindel know what they're doing."

"But what if they don't ?" Sophia persisted.

Brandon lifted his arm off her shoulders with a sigh. "I don't know, Soph," he said wearily, rising to his feet. "All I know is I'm really tired. I'm going to try to get a little sleep." He patted her on the shoulder and strode away, threading through the milling crowds of hobbits, smiling and chatting with them as he went.

Sophia sat, looking off into the ebony sky, which was alive with more stars than she had thought it possible to see. It was a crowded galaxy, she mused, looking for familiar constellations and failing to find them. She felt guilty that she had driven her brother away with her questions, but she couldn't help herself. It was in her nature to worry, and she had been given little reason in her life to trust anyone. But she recognized that the die was cast at this point, and that for better or worse, they were going to have to do everything they could to return the Silmarils. They had no control over what happened after that, and Sophia really hated being out of control. The soft night air swirling gently around her lifted the curls from her forehead, and she closed her eyes, trying to relax. Soon, she was stretched out on the deck, her arms folded under her head, dozing lightly.

_Sophia_, the voice floated to her in her sleep.

_Legolas_? She answered eagerly.

_Don't wake up_! he thought urgently. _You're still a little too far away to mindspeak, but I need to talk to you._

_Okay_, she whispered, trying to let the tendrils of her exhaustion drag her back down.

_We're coming to meet you when you land. You should arrive tomorrow night, but it's too dangerous in the dark. We need you to take the sails down and drift for about three hours tonight._

_But what if we go offcourse?_

_You won't - the ship is enchanted._

She was now fighting to stay asleep, and his voice was growing fainter.

_It's okay,_ he whispered into her mind, _you can wake up now. I will be able to reach you better soon, meleth nin._

She opened her eyes and sat up slowly, taking a deep breath. For the first time since they had been flung from Vingilote, a genuine smile lit her features, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Then she reached under her torn and filthy jumper and pulled out the spirit stone, cradling it in her hands. Sophia pressed the jade, warm with her body heat, to her lips, closing her eyes. Then she tucked it away and rose to her feet, stretching her sore limbs and groaning as her shoulder socket made a popping noise.

"That's what I get for sleeping up here," she groaned, turning to look for Braichon so she could relay the new orders.

Soon, the sails were tied up and the boat swayed in the water. Even without the power of the wind behind them, however, the stately vessel continued to bob in the same direction.

"You should try to sleep again," came a low, raspy voice from behind Sophia, where she stood on the starboard side of the ship. She looked over her shoulder and saw Andi, who came and stood next to her at the rail.

"I know," Sophia responded, with a wan smile. "I'm just a little wired right now. I'll go below decks later. But I'll tell you what I really need..."

"Yes?" Andi encouraged her.

"A bath and a change of clothes. I stink! I can practically still smell that awful cell."

"I believe Bruce and Rodney were able to retrieve your clothing from Dunedin, so you can, in fact, put on fresh clothes."

"Bruce and Rodney?"

"The two scouts who saw you and Brandon taken in the hills. The orcs tore through your packs, but they left your belongings behind, for the most part. We retrieved them for you." Andi frowned. "I'm afraid the packs were too damaged to be of use, though I think one of the changelings is attempting to repair them."

"Oh," Sophia could only say. "I haven't even thanked any of them for saving us," she muttered, glancing around the ship, as though expecting to recognize her saviors.

"Tomorrow," Andi soothed. "Why don't you go for a swim, as long as the boat is becalmed and it is dark out? It will not be as refreshing as a real bath, but it will help. I will go in with you."

Sophia peered skeptically out at the water lapping at the boat, but she sensed no danger in it. "That's a good idea, Andi," she agreed. "Let's do it."

"Allow me to tell Braichon our intent. I assume I may tell him you believe the water is safe for us to enter?"

Sophia nodded. "Wait," she said, fishing in her pocket for the kona wood box. "Can you ask Braichon to hold this for me while we swim?"

Andi took the stone gingerly in her hand, starting a bit as she felt the buzz of its energy, and then strode quickly away toward the captain's wheel, where Braichon held vigil. She returned a few minutes later, carrying two blankets with her.

"I thought we could dry ourselves with these?"

"Those are perfect," Sophia agreed, looking around nervously. She felt a bit self conscious about stripping in front of Andi, let alone a ship full of hobbits, but Andi herself had no such qualms and had already dropped her shirt to the deck. Sophia looked away quickly and then sat down to unlace her boots. Holding her breath, she shed her own clothes, kicking them distastefully aside.

"By all the Valar," Andi gasped. "You are covered in bruises and wounds, Sophia! We must get you to the healer!"

"It looks worse than it is," Sophia assured the changeling, shifting awkwardly under her companion's horrified gaze. "Cirdan healed the worst of it, and the Silmaril helped. Really, I'm fine. Last one in's a rotten egg?" She hoisted herself up over the rail and dropped into the water, which was surprisingly warm. Andi soon surfaced next to her.

"This," Sophia sighed, treading water easily, "was a very good idea. Thank you, Andi."

Andi looked around warily, biting her lip. "I was just thinking the opposite. Are you sure this is safe?"

"Positive," Sophia answered firmly. "There are some fish in the water, and I think maybe a pod of dolphins not too far away, but nothing else. I would be able to tell."

"Okay," Andi said, though her eyes continued to dart around, and her shoulders, poking above the water line, were stiff.

"Just relax," Sophia coaxed her, finally splashing water at the changeling.

"Hey!" Andi said, splashing Sophia back. Soon, they were in an all-out water fight, laughing and paddling furiously at each other.

"Everything all right, there?" someone bellowed at them.

"It is fine, Janet," Andi called out between giggles. "We're just playing around. You may join us if you wish."

"No thank you," barked the changeling, who still looked more like an Uruk Hai than an elf. "I tell others we are not under attack and you not drowning. You lucky you not surrounded by hobbits right now."

They both laughed at the mental image and reassured the changeling again. As Janet walked away, Sophia lifted her feet up and floated on the surface on her back, explaining to Andi how to do so.

"Doesn't that feel great?" she said loudly. "To be weightless and just, well, still?"

"I suppose," Andi said back, her muted voice echoing through the water. "But it's a little strange to have bits of yourself above the water line and everything else below."

"Uh huh," Sophia chuckled, "I think you have more than 'bits,' there."

The changeling woman said nothing, and Sophia worried she might have offended her. She tipped back into the water, treading in place, and looked at Andi, who followed her motions.

"I'm sorry," Sophia finally said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Andi cocked her head to one side in confusion. "What? Oh, you mean, about these?" She gestured toward her chest. "I'm not embarrassed. At least, I don't think I am - it has been some time since I was female. In fact, can I ask you something, of a personal nature?" Andi was peering at her anxiously.

"Okay," Sophia answered, bracing herself.

"Am I ugly?"

"What?" Sophia said, catching a little wave in her open mouth and sputtering.

"I noticed when I took my clothes off that you could not look at me. Am I so very ugly?"

"No!" Sophia exclaimed, coughing. "No, no, not at all. I'm just... It's stupid. My mother, you know, she was kind of uptight about that kind of thing, which is ironic, given some of the things she was into. She made a big deal about keeping myself covered..." Sophia realized she was babbling and stopped abruptly, mashing her lips together. Andi's dark eyes were wide, the starlight sparkling off of them.

"Sorry, sorry," Sophia said hurriedly. "That is not what you wanted to know. You are not ugly, Andi. In fact, you are beautiful. You're just beautiful in your own way - you don't really look like an elf, though you have some of the same features, but you don't look human, either. You look like a spirit of the Earth or something, kind of how I imagine Pochahantas must have looked." Andi looked at her doubtfully. "Anyway, how many are there like you?"

"About thirty on the ship," she said. "We believe ten are female - it is too soon to tell with a couple of them. It may be that is all there is of my kind. I do not know."

"Well, you really have nothing to worry about. Hmm," Sophia responded absently, yawning. "Sorry - I think we should get back on the boat now. It just hit me how tired I am."

They swam to the side of the ship, and Sophia used the ring to lift them out of the water. She tried not to be self conscious as she stood naked, dripping on the deck. Andi, eyes now discreetly averted, handed her a blanket. They both dried off, and Andi put her old clothes back on, since she did not have any others. Sophia wrapped the blanket around herself and followed Andi down the stairs below decks. In one of the cabins, a worktable had been set up, and a stout, middle-aged hobbit woman with narrow eyes and straight dark hair was sitting in a chair, determinedly sewing Sophia's ruined pack.

"Patty," Andi interrupted her, "this is Sophia."

"Well, good gracious, Andrew," the woman declared, her cheeks dimpling, "I certainly know who she is!"

"Of course. Do you have her clothes in here?"

"Right over there, in that chest next to the bunks, child."

Andi helped Sophia open the chest and pull out her clothes, and then closed the cabin door so Sophia could change. As she lifted her arms to pull on her shirt, the movement triggered another massive yawn.

"I should go find a bed," she commented ruefully.

"Most of the bunks are probably taken by now, but the ones in here are free, darlin'," the hobbit said. "This is a workroom, but no one else will be doing anything in here tonight, so it will be quiet, if you don't mind the light." Sophia shook her head, eyelids already drooping, and began to clamber into the nearest bunk.

"I'll go get the Silmaril back from Braichon while you settle in," Andi remarked, but Sophia was already sound asleep before Andi even left the room.

She slept through the rest of the night and most of the next day, too, finally stirring when a dry mouth and a full bladder forced her awake. She blinked, disoriented, as she tried to remember where she was. The sound of snoring drifted down from the bunk above, and she could see bundled shapes in bunks on the other wall. There was light filtering in under the door and through a porthole high in the wall, but the cabin was otherwise dark. Sophia staggered to her feet, swearing under her breath as she bumped her shins against the chair the hobbit woman had been sitting in the night before.

She emerged out into the narrow gangway, shutting the door gently behind her. A hobbit went scurrying past, smiling broadly at her.

"Wait," Sophia called after him, clearing her throat. "Which way is the head?"

"Down the hall, Miss Sophia. You can't miss it," he made a comical fanning motion in front of his scrunched up nose, and then continued along his way.

The head was actually quite clean, Sophia thought, wondering why the little hobbit had felt otherwise. Maybe my standards are just really low now, she thought, after having to use a metal toilet that didn't flush. She noticed that another hobbit, with a cloth around her face, a scrub brush, and a bucket of seawater, entered the toilet as soon as Sophia left. She was torn between amusement and embarrassment.

Feeling a little more awake, Sophia found the galley, which was bustling with activity. A hobbit, rather taller than his peers, stood at a small stove, furiously stirring a large pot of bubbling liquid, which he informed her was dinner.

"Dinner?" she repeated blankly.

"Yes, Miss," the lanky hobbit responded. "In fact, we got a bit of a late start; it's almost dark out already."

"Wait, I've been asleep all day?"

"I reckon so, Miss," the hobbit agreed cheerfully. "I'm sorry the food's not quite ready for you yet, but if you push that big lout across from me out of the way, there's some bread on the shelf there, and then a water cask down below. Get him to fetch you a canteen if you don't already have one. There will be ale later, too."

The hobbit in question, who was older, his dark frizzy hair streaked with gray, grumbled at the cook. But he insisted on helping Sophia fix a plate for herself, giving her bread, peanut butter, and an apple, as well as a canteen of water.

"Come back in about an hour and we'll get you a real meal!" The tall hobbit called after her. "Just ask for Ian!"

Sophia climbed back to the deck, stuffing bread in her mouth as she went. Topside, the sun was setting ahead of them on the open ocean, and unless they were on a different planet, she figured that meant they were traveling west. She stood for a moment, admiring the pink-shot smudge of light along the edge of the water.

"Feeling better?" Braichon called out from the Captain's wheel.

As if in answer, Sophia yawned, breaking into a laugh. "Believe it or not, I'm still sleepy." She threaded through the busy throng of hobbits to come to his side. Braichon promptly held his hand out to her, and dropped the kona wood box into her open palm.

"You've had it this whole time?" she asked in surprise, and he nodded.

She looked at Braichon uneasily, wondering if he was becoming possessive about the Silmaril. Brandon had told her of the stone's bloody history while they were confined. On some level, she found it hard to believe that anyone would start a war over a gemstone, but on another, she understood. How could she not? There was something seductive about the feeling she had whenever she held the stone; it wasn't a feeling of power, exactly, but rather of endless potential. Even now, when it was supposedly shielded, she had that sense of anticipation, as though something great were about to happen, and she just couldn't remember what it was. She shuddered, thinking about the price that poor Maglor had paid for this very gem, wandering for millennia with only the tormented ghosts of his brothers for company. There was something just unnatural about the Silmarils, she decided, or at least inhuman. That divine light was never meant to be captured by the earthbound, and she suspected its curse would touch anyone who coveted it.

Braichon watched her patiently as she stood, staring at the smooth, wooden box.

"It does not affect me now," he broke into her thoughts.

"Huh?" she looked up at him.

"Now that I am fully transformed. The Silmaril does not affect me."

"Oh," Sophia said hurriedly, "I didn't think it did."

Braichon chuckled. "Your expression said otherwise."

She blushed. "Sorry. It's just, now that I know more about it, I'm a little more gun shy about this thing." She held the box up, rattling the gem inside.

Braichon smiled at her. "I am also aware of the history, and your concern is well placed. But you need not worry. Truly - I feel a small vibration when I touch it, but other than that, it does not call to me, anymore."

"Good to know," Sophia said firmly, shoving the box deep into her pocket and taking a swig of water. "Have you seen Brandon?"

"He was awake briefly around lunchtime, but I think he went back to sleep."

Sophia nodded. "I can't believe how long I was out, actually."

"You should sleep some more," he encouraged her, "after dinner maybe. You still have much to recover from."

Sophia scowled at him. "Andi told you?"

"Yes," he said, unperturbed, "she mentioned the severity of your injuries. If we were not nearing Valinor, I would tell you to take out the Silmaril again, but I suspect we had best keep it shielded at all times now. In any case, we are likely to be under threat the moment we step foot in Valinor, if not before, so you should rest as much as you can before we get there."

Sophia nodded at him. "And you?" she said pointedly. "I bet someone else can take the helm for awhile."

"It is nice to have you fussing over me again," Braichon smiled. "But it would seem that I do not require much sleep. Andi and I have discussed it - it is the same for her."

"I guess that's your elf heritage, huh?" Sophia asked, taking a bite of the apple.

"To some degree," Braichon agreed.

"What else do you remember from your old life?" She asked curiously, forgetting Cirdan's warning.

"Less and less every day," he deflected her. "But enough to know that I am no elf now."

"Well, fill me in," Sophia said with a wave. "Tell me what's happened to you since you left the lodge."

Braichon and Andi had scoured downtown Auckland for weeks, finding only two changelings, hiding in a park. But then Glorfindel had come to help them, which Sophia was surprised to hear. Legolas had managed to keep Braichon's old flip phone throughout their ordeal with the plane crash, turning it over to Glorfindel when they arrived in Paradise. Hannasiel and her team were able to figure out how to use the SIM card to track Acharnor's phone, and Glorfindel had brought the modified phone back to them. Once they figured out where Acharnor was, all they had to do was make sure the orcs saw Braichon, and the ones that were transforming came to him. The others didn't even notice, and Acharnor himself was clearly preoccupied. They had found another thirty two changeling orcs there.

About half had stayed behind, camping at the elf's lodge and looking for more changelings. The rest had flown with Braichon and Andi to Hawaii, visiting all of the places where they had stayed when they were with Acharnor. They found fifty changelings there, but many, many more orcs than there should have been. Glorfindel had told them to return to New Zealand at that point, actually sending a plane for them.

By the time they landed, the battle on Mt. Aspiring had taken place and the elves were already on their way to Gray Havens. Braichon and his now large group of changelings had traveled to Paradise, to see if there were more transforming orcs on the mountain. They had found many there, including most of the Uruk Hai now on the ship.

As they made their way to the Gray Havens, Braichon's tracker had told him Acharnor was in Dunedin, so his scouts, Bruce and Rodney - who still looked like orcs and could blend in - were looking for a route through the hills that would allow them to skirt the city when they saw Acharnor ambush Sophia and Brandon. One had followed the war party into town, and the other had returned with the news.

"And you know the rest from there," Braichon finished.

"So, how many of you are there, total?"

"Three hundred and six," he answered. "I worry that we might have missed some."

"You did everything you could," Sophia reassured him.

"So Andi tells me. But I cannot help wondering about their fate."

"Not to mention the other seven billion people on Earth. What happens to them?"

Braichon looked at Sophia, his eyes dark with unshed tears. "I am afraid terrible things have already happened to them, my dear friend. I saw no people in Hawaii or in New Zealand. Only orcs."

"No people at all?"

He shook his head slowly.

"Acharnor said Melkor turned all the people into orcs," Sophia breathed, "but I didn't think that could possibly be true. I mean, how could he even do that?"

"I do not know."

"Well, how did he turn you into an Uruk Hai? At least you must know that."

Braichon made a strangled, gasping noise, and his gaze fell to the deck.

"That is a different matter," he muttered.

"Different how?" Sophia pressed.

Braichon stared at the deck. Then he gave his head a little shake and looked back up at her, straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat.

"It cannot be what they did to the humans. They had to turn us one at a time, and it took years," he said in a calm, flat voice. "After they caught me, the first thing they did was shackle me in a concrete block with no light and no sound. It is hard to explain how that affects an elf, but I will attempt it." He paused, watching her. "Andi tells me you have a spirit stone." Sophia nodded. "I imagine when you hold it, you sense nature, in all its subtlety. Insects moving through the grains of loam, birds winging on an updraft, leaves stretching toward the sun. That is not just a memory of home for the elf who gave it to you; it is an imprint of his soul. Elves are intimately woven into the natural world, and it is in them. To separate an elf from nature is to kill his soul."

"After they had left us alone in the box for some time, the torture began. They started with my bond mate, and they made me watch as they hurt her and violated her. And then they did the same to me, and forced her to witness. But they always held back, just a little, you know, so we could not die, an end we both craved. And I don't know what Melkor did to us, but we could not fade, either. I do not remember specifically losing my fea, my spirit, but that is eventually what happened, and that is the point at which you are no longer an elf and the transformation begins. I saw it happen to my beloved, until there was nothing left of her at all. And then she became my tormentor, too."

Sophia's mouth hung open as she looked at her friend in horror, and she took a step back, her hands flying to her face.

"It is something I wish to forget," he told her gently, "as does Andi. There are many terrible things I did as an Uruk Hai that I also wish to forget. And I am forgetting, a little more, every day. Just as we forgot we were ever elves, soon I will not remember I was ever anything but this," he gestured at himself.

"And I brought it all back," she said hoarsely.

"Yes," he answered. "But you needed to know. Someone should remember what happened so that it can never happen again. But I have another reason for telling you this," he added quietly. "I wanted to know if you are truly well. What did they do to you and your brother, Sophia?"

She stared at him, blinking rapidly, and then shook her head, swinging her chin in a wide arc and finishing with a shudder. "No," she said, "no. They didn't... they didn't do that. You rescued us before it got that bad."

"Good. Then these are injuries you can recover from."

She nodded, and then silence wrapped around them, pushing them apart.

"Braichon," She finally said, stepping closer to him and putting a hand gently on his forearm. "I am so sorry. Sorry for what was done to you, and sorry that I made you remember. I won't ask you any more questions."

He smiled at her, warmth kindling in his eyes, and patted her hand. "You ask me anything you think you need to know. I have faith in you and your instincts. But when the time comes, you must allow us to forget. They only thing I will keep from my past is Andi."

He glanced at Sophia, and started laughing, his broad shoulders shaking with mirth.

"What?" she said with a frown.

"I can tell that you are dying to ask me about Andi, but are now afraid to say anything. You look like an overripe melon about to burst. Yes, she was my mate when we were elves. I do not know if in some corner of our corrupted minds we still knew, or if it was just Acharnor's perverse sense of humor that he kept us together. And while we are not the elves we were and never will be again, there is still a bond between us. Apparently, even when there is nothing else of you left, there is love."

Sophia stood next to him, gazing off into the twilight. "Speaking of love," she finally said, pulling the spirit stone out from under her sweatshirt, "you should know who gave me this..."

"Legolas, I imagine," Braichon finished for her.

"You knew?" Sophia asked in surprise. "But I did not know, myself, when you were with us. How could you know?"

Braichon shrugged. "I saw you kiss him on the cheek on the porch my last night at the lodge. You did not see his expression, but it was clearly the moment he realized he was linked to you. Any who saw him could read that on his face. Indeed, Elladan was there, too, and had some choice words for him about you, which I could not help but overhear. Suffice it to say, Elladan reminded him it is not usual for an elf to have a human bond mate. Legolas was not in a very good mood after that, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure he wasn't," Sophia sighed.

"But these are unusual times," Braichon remarked cheerfully, "and you are an uncommon human, so Elladan will just have to accept that it is so."

Just then, the stout hobbit with the gray-streaked hair elbowed his way to a large, brass bell suspended near the captain's wheel, and pulled at the lanyard wildly, setting off a flurry on deck. Hobbits began streaming toward the gallery, jostling each other as they lined up for dinner.

"Now you stay right here, miss," he said sternly to Sophia. "Someone will bring you and the captain some food, so don't you trouble yourself."

Sophia tried to protest that she could wait in line, just like everyone else, but the cook's mate would not hear of it. He shook a finger at her and stomped away, shouting at the tittering hobbits to let him through, if they ever wanted another meal.

"I'm not sure they're all changing into the same thing," Sophia murmured.

Braichon laughed. "What I wonder is whether these are new personalities for them, or if this is a reflection of who they were as humans? If so, Florence must have been one bad-tempered man."

"How did they choose their names?" she asked, sitting on the deck and leaning her back against the smooth wooden wall of the captain's berth.

"We found a phone book in Auckland," Braichon explained, "and we've just been picking names out of that. Sometimes, we have a renaming once gender is apparent, or sometimes, they just decide to keep the original name they chose."

"Thus Florence."

"Precisely."

They rested in companionable silence, as the soft night air rustled around them, when suddenly the door to the captain's quarters flew open, banging into the wall next to Sophia and making her jump. Brandon stumbled out.

"What'd I miss?" he yawned, blinking into the deepening twilight.

"Nothing at all," Braichon answered. "Indeed, you are just in time for dinner."

Soon, the deck was full of hobbits eating the savory stew, mopping it up with bread, and washing it all down with ale. There was steady back and forth traffic between the galley and the deck, as hobbits eagerly refilled their cups from the ale cask and wheedled the cook for seconds or thirds. Soon enough, the ship was full of dancing, drunken hobbits, singing of their adventures and their victory over Acharnor. A laughing young woman grabbed Brandon's hands and pulled him to his feet, whirling him into the stomping mass. Sophia was soon pressed to dance as well, joining a raucous conga line, which thumped its way all around the ship. Braichon finally pulled her out of the line, good naturedly batting away the many small hands that pulled at him to join the merriment.

"Sleep now," he shouted at her, as he led her away. "No one will disturb you in the captain's quarters, and they will certainly disturb you anywhere else." She smiled at him gratefully and allowed him to push her into the spacious berth. Brandon was already out cold in the wide bed, one arm flung over his head, and she plowed into the pillow next to him, falling asleep almost instantly.

It would be the last time either sibling would sleep well for a long time.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Back again! What do you think?**_

Sophia was very deeply asleep when the vague and nagging feeling that someone was calling her name slowly penetrated the warm, syrupy darkness. She sat up on the bed, blinking and yawning. Ordinarily, she might have been disoriented, but with the exception of the blissful interlude in Paradise, she had hardly slept in the same place for more than a night since her mother died. She was growing accustomed to waking up without knowing where she was.

It was dark in the cabin, and Brandon was asleep next to her, still on his back, with one arm curled over his head. She could see several lumpy shapes, dimly outlined in shadow on the floor, and the cabin rasped with the sound of respiration. Everyone was asleep; there was no one in the room calling her.

_Good morning,_ Legolas's voice echoed quietly across her thoughts.

_Is it morning, then?_ She answered.

_The sun will rise soon_, he responded, pausing to let her wake up fully.

_I can hear you really well_, she thought, _does that mean_ _we're there_?

_Yes_, he agreed, _you'll be able to see land at first light. Elrond will use the connection among the rings to help guide the ship to our location, but you should wake Brandon and go up on deck now._

She gave Brandon's shoulder a little shake, suppressing the urge to tell Legolas how much she wanted to see him. She would tell him soon enough in person. Brandon woke up quickly and quietly, and she could see his eyes gleaming at her through the gloom.

Sophia clambered quietly out of the bed and picked her way around the sleeping forms, Brandon following close behind. Out in the soft hush of a breaking dawn, Braichon still held vigil at the wheel. He smiled warmly at them and pointed to a tray sitting on the deck.

Brandon all but pounced on the biscuits, which were still slightly warm and spread with honey. He passed one to his sister.

"We are nearing land," Braichon commented softly.

Sophia peered off into the darkness, chewing thoughtfully. "That's what Legolas just told me, but I can't see anything."

"My night vision is fairly good," Braichon offered, with a slight smile.

"Can elves see in the dark?" Brandon wondered.

"To some degree, I believe so," Braichon answered, "though not as well as I can. Perhaps it is a reflection of the fact that I was reborn out of darkness. And while I do mean that in the figural sense, Uruk Hai are largely nocturnal, though they can withstand light."

"Aren't you tired at all?" Sophia asked him curiously. "I don't think you've slept in three days."

Braichon lifted his shoulders slightly. "I've napped, here and there. But I do not seem to require more than that. I still have much to learn about my own existence."

"You are so lucky," she sighed. "I'm no good without a full night's sleep."

"And you're not all that great even with a full night's sleep, in the mornings, at any rate," Brandon observed. "Though you seem to be in a decent mood this morning, which is kind of weird."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Braichon chuckled. "Now, now children," he teased. "If you want something hot to drink, I believe the galley has coffee."

A short time later, they were back at the wheel, steam rising off their metal coffee mugs as they watched the sun rise. Sophia felt her pulse quicken.

"This could be an eventful day," she commented.

"That's an understatement," Brandon agreed, staring off at the horizon. He glanced away from the light scrolling up the sky and off to the west. "Look!" he exclaimed, grabbing Sophia's arm and pointing. There was a dark smudge of land due west, clearly visible now in the pale blue light that ringed the sky. "Valinor," he breathed.

The three companions fell silent and stared as the light grew brighter and the black line on the horizon began to take shape.

"We will be there within two hours," Braichon said quietly. "We should wake our passengers so they can prepare themselves. We do not know what awaits us when we land."

"Legolas is there," Sophia reassured him.

Braichon nodded, looking intently at the siblings. "We may not have much time to talk in the coming days," he said in a low voice, "but I want you both to know how grateful I am for the second chance you have given me. I will not waste it, and I will stand by you to the end. To a new beginning. I...I feel great love for you both, as if you were of my own blood."

"And we love you," Brandon said solemnly, grasping the changeling's forearm.

"You are our "wild brother," after all," Sophia smiled at him, though her heart had clenched with apprehension at his words. She came to his other side and leaned her head against his shoulder, as he draped his arm across Brandon's shoulders. They stood there together, until the sun was up.

Braichon gave them both a little squeeze before dropping his arms back to his sides. "That was likely the last moment of peace we will know for awhile," he sighed, blowing his cheeks out comically. "I am afraid it is time to wake the hobbits."

The ship soon clattered with activity, as hundreds of hobbits raced around the deck, pulling together the weapons and other supplies they had gathered in their journeys and at Gray Havens. Even the horses were brought up on the deck, much to Sophia's dismay. The stallion was stamping nervously, and the mare's eyes were rolling wildly. She saw Brandon move swiftly to Tai Nui's side, stroking the huge horse's muzzle. A hobbit offered Attahua an apple, which calmed the nervous horse considerably, and pressed a bunch of carrots into Brandon's hand. Sophia joined them, and the horse nudged her gently as she stood with a hand on the chestnut's withers.

The air buzzed with excitement, and Sophia worried the ship might actually tip into the sea, given how many of the hobbits were crowding at the rails to get a better look at the landscape in front of them. As they drew closer, Sophia could see a beach of white sand, with heavily forested hills swelling behind, and a greasy line of smoke rising beyond the bend in the shoreline.

_Are we close_? She reached out for Legolas's mind, and he answered with what felt like a mental caress. She blushed, glancing around to see if anyone was looking at her.

_Yes_, he finally answered. _You will be in the cove soon. There is a jetty here you can tie up at. Elrond believes it is safe here, but you should stay alert, in any case_.

_For those shark things?_

_Yes_.

"Are you talking to Legolas?" Brandon broke in, and Sophia nodded, blushing again slightly. "Yeah, I thought so," he said. "You get this sort of goofy look on your face."

"I do not," she scowled, quickly deciding to change the subject. "How about Elanordis?" she said pointedly. "I bet you're having quite a conversation, yourself."

Brandon frowned. "No, actually," he said shortly. "We aren't able to actually talk like you can, just sort of share impressions. But I can't seem to reach her, anyway. I can feel that she's here, but it's like she's on a different channel or something. The transmission is sort of fuzzy."

Sophia's brows pulled together in concern, and her brother looked away uneasily.

"One plus one equals three," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"It doesn't add up."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I'm sure there's a good explanation. She's probably just asleep or something." Sophia did not remind him that she could apparently communicate with Legolas through dreams.

"Yeah, maybe."

They both fell silent as the ship entered the cove. They could see no one on the beach, but Sophia could sense that Legolas was nearby, and told the others. She clasped her hands tightly together to keep them from shaking, and then stroked the horse again, trying to calm them both. Even the hobbits had grown still as they prepared to tie up at the weathered, gray pier.

Braichon and Andi suddenly tensed, and looked up.

"Something is coming," Andi said urgently.

Just then, Sophia could feel a disturbance in the currents around and under the boat.

"In the water, too!" she cried out, calling on the ring's power, which radiated out from her hand in a filmy, white light. Brandon held his arms up, a red glow rising rapidly above the ship, just as a swarm of drones appeared directly over the ship, buzzing madly and shorting out as they hit the shield. They fell into the water like an angry, hissing rain, pinging off the metal skins of the shark drones. The horses stamped and whinnied, sending hobbits scurrying in all directions.

Sophia caught movement on the beach out of the corner of her eye, and saw Elrond burst through the treeline and sprint toward them in a blast of blue light, which quickly merged with the white and red light to form a bright purple shield all around the boat. She felt dozens of the underwater drones shorting out as the expanded shield engulfed them.

Other elves followed Elrond out of the forest now and fanned out across the small crescent of white sand. Two elves with long, shining hair ran toward the jetty, and Sophia's heart began to pound in her ears. One was unmistakably Legolas, and the other was a woman, who was tall, taller even than Legolas, and she was clad in a bright, silvery armor. As the tall woman approached the ship, Sophia could see her hair actually gleamed like spun gold and her alabaster face was radiant with a cold light.

"You must leave the ship at once," the woman commanded, in a deep voice that carried throughout the small harbor and seemed to soothe the horses. She held her hands out for the ropes and tied the ship off, pulling down the gangway folded up on the deck of the boat.

The nearest passengers cringed away from her, eyes wide in fear, while the other changelings milled uneasily around the deck. Then Andi strode through their midst and held her hand out to the imposing elleth, leaping right off the boat.

"Now!" Andi called out. "Donald, Patty - move!"

Suddenly, the changelings surged forward in a fairly orderly stream, running after Andi down the jetty toward Legolas, who directed them toward the woods. About half had gotten off the boat when an enormous dark cloud suddenly gathered overhead, blotting out the bright morning sun, to the point of near darkness. Almost immediately, there were high-pitched screams coming from the far end of the beach, and the horses began to panic.

"Orcs!" Sophia cried, clinging to Ataahua's bridle as the white light streaming from her wavered.

"They will take care of the orcs!" The elleth answered in her booming voice, which again seemed to calm the frightened horses. "You concentrate on the machines. You must keep the shield in place until you are all off the boat, Sophia." Sophia started and looked across the deck, meeting the eyes of the mysterious elven woman. As soon as their gazes locked, the elleth spoke to her - directly into her mind.

_Focus. Melkor thinks by sending orcs, he will distract you with fear. We expected this and are ready for them._

Sophia nodded, somewhat unnerved that an elf she had never met before could communicate with her this way. She thought it was something that was unique to her and Legolas, or at least to couples with a bond.

She could tell the elf was amused, and was annoyed that this woman was apparently eavesdropping on her actual thoughts, as well.

_I apologize_, came the voice. _I did not intend to invade your privacy. We will speak more once the immediate danger is past, but do not be distressed. Thought-speak is very rare, indeed, even in bonded pairs. _

"Brandon," the imposing elleth said aloud, "now you and Sophia need to leave. You, too, Braichon," she added. "Do not drop the shield."

They led the horses carefully to the gangplank, Braichon following closely behind them.

"Into the woods," the elleth directed. "Braichon, take the mare."

They jogged up the jetty, glancing at the battle swelling along the beach. Sophia faltered and watched with amazement as the elven warriors carved effortlessly through the band of orcs that continued to pour from the far end of the forest.

_Keep moving_, she heard, glancing up to see Legolas only about twenty feet away, gesturing to her wildly, his dark gray eyes lancing through her. She shuddered slightly and began moving again, sensing that the scary elleth was close behind her.

"Keep the shield over the changelings and the elves," the elleth cried, as the aerial drone swarm shifted away from the boat and toward the beach. The light surged forward to follow, and then a crunching sound shot out from behind them. Sophia looked back over her shoulder and saw the eyeless sharks savaging the boat, tearing great chunks out of the hull.

"No!" she cried, diverting the white stream of light back to the boat, and causing the purple shield to shimmy.

"Leave it!" the elleth commanded, coming up next to her and suddenly grasping her hand in a cool, firm grip. As she did so, Sophia felt power flowing through their joined palms, into the ring and back out, and the filmy white sheen around her suddenly grew blindingly bright, and pulsed outward in wave after wave. Sophia clenched her eyes closed against the glare.

"You may look now," the elleth said then. When Sophia opened her eyes, she saw a clear, azure sky, with no sign of the dark cloud. Small waves gently lapped up against the beach, the only sign of the furious creatures that had been raging in the water just moments before. Orc carcasses were everywhere, with the lithe forms of elves moving among them, quickly withdrawing to the woods. Looking back over her shoulder, Sophia was dismayed to see the boat swiftly sinking beneath the water.

"Come," the elleth said, letting go of Sophia's hand. "We must leave this place."

"But the boat," Sophia protested.

"We do not need it," she reassured Sophia.

"But we might, someday," Sophia insisted.

"No," the elleth said firmly. "When we leave Valinor, it will not be by boat. Come," she repeated, gesturing for Sophia to move ahead of her to the beach, where Legolas was waiting for them. Sophia stepped onto the sand, gasping as Legolas's hand alit on her back, pressing her forward. His touch set off a small explosion of shivers along her spine, and she could have sworn the very air around them crackled, as if suddenly full of static electricity.

"By the Valar," the elleth murmured, eyes wide.

"What?" Sophia asked, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

"You have a _fea_ bond," the woman answered. "And a very strong one at that. Why did you not tell me, Legolas?"

He shrugged, eyes downcast.

"Well, no doubt you have your reasons," she said with a slight smile as they reached the treeline. She tilted her head for a moment, and then nodded at them. "Please, continue on. I will be back with you in just a moment." And the remarkable elleth slid through the crowd of hobbits and melted into the trees.

"Who was that? And what's a fee-er bond?"

"That," Legolas sighed, "was Galadriel." He did not respond to her second question.

"I thought so," Brandon beamed.

"Come," Legolas said, placing a light kiss on Sophia's temple. "We need to move deeper into the forest - we'll be safer there."

Elrond soon joined them, embracing the siblings tightly and kissing them on both cheeks. He then disappeared into the woods ahead of them, looking for Galadriel.

They moved swiftly and silently through the trees, or as silent as nearly three hundred hobbits were capable of being. Sophia felt a hand grasp her elbow and jumped slightly, looking around the see Valdaglerion's enormous blue eyes staring back at her. He smiled broadly.

"We were worried we'd lost you," he said quietly.

"We were pretty worried, ourselves," Brandon responded, clasping hands with the solemn elf.

"Where are the others?" Sophia asked eagerly. Valdeglerion's face fell.

"Galion and Methenniel are in the caves," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"And Maethorian?"

Valdeglerion would not look at her. Finally, he spoke.

"He fell in the battle at Tirion, in the castle." Sophia and Brandon both gasped in dismay.

Legolas interrupted them. "Please," he whispered, "we'll have time to talk when we get to the caves, where it's safer." Valdeglerion nodded hastily, and Sophia noticed a look of gratitude briefly flash across his face. Maybe it was just that he didn't want to talk about Maethorian, but she had a hunch it was something else, and she had a bad feeling about it.

They walked in silence for a time, and finally, Sophia's curiosity overcame her.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, leaning towards Legolas.

"Cyr Eryn," he answered softly. "The forest city of Valinor, my father's realm," He added.

"Your father?" She repeated, feeling heat bloom on her cheeks as she remembered what Glorfindel had said to her about Thranduil.

Legolas looked at Sophia questioningly, and she just shook her head, clamping down on her wayward thoughts. It was best if he thought she was just nervous about meeting his father for the usual reasons.

"I have told him a little of you," he said reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll hit it off."

"Is he like he was in the movies?" she asked, trying to distract him, or at least herself.

Legolas chuckled quietly.

"He seems to have mellowed a bit," he said. "A bit. But don't worry - his bark is worse than his bite. Come, we're nearly there."

Even the hobbits fell silent as the forest grew thick around them. The trees reminded Sophia of the ancient Sequoia and Redwood groves of California, only these were not pine trees. Atop the skyscraper trunks was a canopy of foliage, a riot of broad, spreading leaves that nearly shut out all light. Occasionally, the trill of a bird or scrape of an insect could be heard, but the knobby, dark brown wood seemed to swallow all other sound.

Suddenly, there was movement in the trees, and Sophia was startled to see an elf land next to her on the forest floor. He was clad in some kind of leather harness over a very fine chain mail, the leather encrusted in gemstones that gleamed softly in the dim light. A metal headdress curled around his forehead, his dark brown hair braided away from his face underneath. Sophia stared at him, and he returned her gaze evenly, his dark, expressionless eyes scanning her from head to toe. Legolas said something to the elf in what Sophia assumed was Sindaran, and the elf nodded briefly before disappearing into the crowd of hobbits without a word.

"Sorry about that," Legolas murmured. "That was the captain of my father's guard. He was just curious."

"Oh," Sophia said nervously, wondering exactly what the hard-eyed elf was curious about.

Legolas laughed quietly. "They are all very interested in seeing the keepers of the stones," he told her.

She scowled at him. "Just because you can hear my thoughts does not mean you should comment on them."

"No promises," he said wryly. "We're here," he added, pointing at a pile of rocks that loomed in front of them. Several elves stood guard, also in leather and mail, though without all the gems and the fancy headgear. The sentinels bowed to Legolas, who inclined his head in return, and stood aside as he led the chattering group between the rocks. At first, the path sloped gently, illuminated by torches flickering in sconces along the packed earthen walls. As the rough stone under their feet began to smooth out, the path sloped more steeply.

"See there?" Legolas said to Brandon, pointing up into the high corridor above them. The torchlight didn't quite reach all the way to the ceiling, but they could see what looked like shadowy lumps atop a niche along the wall.

"It's a failsafe," he explained. "The forest should offer more than enough protection from Melkor and his creatures, but if they should find a way in, there are rockfalls rigged in several places along the entry way. They can be triggered from inside the caverns."

"Oh," Brandon said weakly, "how...reassuring."

Elrond, who had joined them, coughed out a dry laugh. "And that is not all Thranduil has up his sleeve. Apparently, all the other lords in Valinor thought his extended stay in Middle Earth had driven him mad. They would not heed his words of warning that the end was nigh, and now they have all either perished or been forced on bended knee to seek refuge in his fortress."

"How did he know?" Sophia asked, frowning at Elrond's casually cruel tone. She looked at him closely, noticing that he appeared thinner, with gray circles under his eyes and an unnerving wildness in his gaze.

"Are you alright?" She asked him worriedly.

"Fine," he said shortly, clenching his jaw. Then he shook himself slightly and gave her a half smile. "At least you have been returned safely to us." He patted Brandon on the shoulder, then lowered his head as he shuffled just ahead of them, keeping to himself.

Sophia and Brandon looked at each other.

_What was that all about_? She thought at Legolas, and could feel the discomfort and regret radiating off of him. _What is going on_? She thought, growing alarmed

_Something has happened_, he admitted. _Something bad_.

"What is it?" Brandon hissed at her. "What are they keeping from us?"

"Let's get all the way inside the caves," Legolas said softly, gripping Brandon's shoulder.

They tramped on in silence. Sophia was running all the bad scenarios she could think of through her mind, and it suddenly hit her. Where was Earendil? He should have been at the beach to meet them with the others. Had he fallen, and the Silmaril with him? Her breath froze in her throat.

"No, Sophia. It is not Earendil. He is in Valmar, waiting for you," Legolas said softly. "Valmar has as many protections as Cyr Eryn; he'll be safe there."

"Isn't that supposed to be where the Valar live?" Brandon asked.

"Not any more," Elrond growled, coming to a halt in front of them, and whirling around to stare at the siblings. "They are gone. What's that human saying? When the going gets tough, the tough get going? Well, when the going got tough here in Valinor, the Valar got going alright. No one has seen any sign of them in years. We are forsaken."

Elrond's eyes glittered, his fists at his sides.

"And why not?" Elrond continued, emitting a strange, high-pitched laugh, "when Eru has so many worlds to choose from? Why should they care what happens on this one? They can just chalk it up to lessons learned."

"Grandfather?" Brandon said tentatively, reaching out for the elf, who stepped back, shaking his head.

"Do not look to me for comfort, human," Elrond bit out, "for I have none to give you. We have brought you here to your doom." Sophia gasped and Brandon froze, his hand immobile in the air.

"You do not believe that," came a calm voice, echoing along the rock walls. Galadriel suddenly appeared by Elrond's side, as though she had materialized from thin air. Sophia, who had not seen the elleth slip past her, recoiled in surprise. Galadriel regarded Elrond intently, albeit with a carefully neutral look on her face. He would not meet her gaze or respond.

"Come," she said softly, holding a hand out to him. "Come with me now, child, and let me ease your pain." When Elrond still refused to look at her and didn't move, she spoke again, with just a whispering edge of iron in her voice. "You are not the only one who suffers, as you well know. Your wife has been waiting for you for 3,000 years, and she waits for you still at Valmar. You must be strong for her, if not for yourself and your family." Neither Galadriel's expression nor her tone changed, but it was clear she was chiding him for how he had spoken to Brandon.

Elrond dropped his head and passed a hand wearily across his forehead. Finally, nodding slightly, he allowed Galadriel to guide him forward by the hand.

Sophia, Brandon, Legolas and the host of hobbits watched them go.

"She said she'll join us shortly and explain," Legolas said, his voice echoing slightly off the polished cavern walls. "Come."

Sophia noticed that Braichon had come up alongside Brandon, giving him a quick squeeze of the shoulder. Brandon swallowed and tried to give the changeling a smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. She was so busy watching him that she was caught by surprise when the corridor suddenly spilled into an enormous chamber, brightly lit and full of activity.

"Oh," she inhaled sharply, stopping so suddenly that Andi ran right into her.

"What...oh," Andi echoed, looking around at the cavern, mouth open. The hobbits chattered excitedly.

The stone walls curved away and up so high, they could not even see the ceiling. In fact, Sophia wasn't even sure there was a ceiling, wondering if perhaps this cavern were open to the sky. Indeed, the upper reaches of the room were dark, and there appeared to be small, twinkling lights in the distance.

"Sun sprites," Legolas murmured, "they are like fireflies. They are always there."

"Hmm," she answered, still staring. The cavern looked very much like a forest, though lighter and more open than the one they had just been in. There was bright green, mossy grass carpeting the ground, and a small brook winding around the floor. There were trees, too, and when Sophia walked to one and reached out a fingertip to touch one, it was cold and hard. The glittering leaves were made of gemstones and polished jewels.

"It's stone," Brandon said admiringly. "Trees, carved out of stone."

Legolas smiled at them and beckoned them forward.

"I am told this is what Menegroth looked like, back when Melian was queen," Legolas noted. "I was born after it fell, but my father has told me many stories of his youth there. I know he tried to make Mirkwood's caves like it, too, but they were nothing like this. Elven magic is stronger here, so much more is possible."

"It's spectacular," Sophia said firmly. "Where is the light coming from?"

"It's some kind of enchantment, I think," Legolas shrugged. "It diverts sunlight down into the caverns. It will grow dark at night and look like the night sky, and torches are lit then. We're almost to the throne room," he noted.

Sophia clasped her hands together nervously. Just then, a cluster of dark-haired elleths, clad in flowing, filmy silks, tripped past, all giggling and blushing and calling out greetings to Legolas in an unrecognizable language. Sophia bit her lip.

"Your people must be glad to have you back," she finally observed.

He shrugged, tugging at his collar.

"Of course they are glad," came a booming voice, with a crisp English accent, "and why should they not be? Their crown prince has returned at long last to fulfill his destiny." A tall elf with the same long, silvery hair as Legolas and obsidian eyes, strode toward them, his royal blue and silver-edged robes billowing around him as though he had his own personal wind machine.

"My Lord," Legolas said formally, "allow me to introduce..."

Thranduil waved at Legolas impatiently. "There is no need of introduction, my son. We have waited many years for you, Dunedain. It gladdens my soul that you have finally come."

Thranduil examined them both from head to toe, and Sophia tried not to squirm. He resembled Legolas, but it was almost as if someone had pressed harder on the pencil that drew him; he was broader through the shoulders and chest, his jaw was squarer, his brows darker, his lips fuller, and tilting upward at the moment. She glanced up to see what had amused him and flushed when she realized he was watching her basically ogle him.

"You are both as comely as your illustrious forbears, just as Glorfindel promised," he commented, winking at Brandon and patting Sophia solicitously on the back when she choked at the word "Glorfindel." What had Glorfindel said?

"Are you well?" he inquired, a roguish glint in his eye.

"Yes," she said, sure that her face was tomato red, fire engine red, hot poker in the fire red, "fine. Fine, thank you, your majesty."

"Please," he said easily, tucking her arm into the crook of his left arm, and Brandon's into his right, and turning to guide them to the far end of the chamber, "you may call me Thranduil." He looked over at Brandon. "We are soon to face the enemy together, so we may as well be on friendly terms, no?"

_What happened to his bark being worse than his bite_? Sophia thought.

_He can be very charming when he wants to be_, Legolas answered dryly.

_Apparently_, she agreed.

"How is it that you speak English, my lord?" Brandon asked, sketching a small bow.

"Thranduil," he corrected. "I left Middle Earth not so very long ago, and while humans did not yet speak English then, the roots were planted. Some of the more recently arrived members of our kingdom have schooled me in the modern tongue, and Galadriel, as well. It was my wish that you would be able to understand me when you came, and I hope that in this, I am successful."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "They understand you just fine, father. I told you your English is impeccable. You sound as though you went to a British public school."

"Ah, yes," he smiled. "I understand this is considered the most cultured way to speak the language. And that it will, what was the phrase? Drive the ladies wild? And the gentlemen too, presumably?"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow in an elegant arch and smiled down at Sophia, patting her hand.

She just looked back at him, blinking.

_I can't believe my father is flirting with you_, Legolas grumbled. _Both of you_.

She smiled at Thranduil.

_It's a little weird_, she agreed. _But very flattering_.

Thranduil came to an abrupt stop, dropping his smile. He peered at Sophia closely and then at Legolas. His face hardened, and a veil seemed to drop over his eyes, but not before Sophia could see a flash of something dangerous in their darkness.

"You should have told me," was all he said to Legolas, marching forward again and all but dragging Sophia and Brandon across the room.

_You didn't tell him about the bond_?

_Not in so many words_.

Sophia snorted out loud. _Like in no words, maybe?_

_You and I did not exactly leave on good terms_, he reminded her. _I wasn't_ _sure where I stood_.

She narrowed her eyes and shot a look at him.

_And_ _I'm still not, apparently._

"Children," Thranduil snapped, "it is rude to carry on a conversation only the two of you can hear when we are right here. Do you not agree, Brandon?"

"Um..." he started.

"He agrees," Thranduil interrupted. "So please, if you have something to say, say it out loud."

"It's a fea bond, father," Legolas said evenly.

Thranduil paused on the threshold of the throne room, staring straight ahead. "I see." Then he yanked them forward. He disengaged his arms from Brandon's and Sophia's and gestured at the soldiers near the doors to the chamber, who promptly exited, closing the doors behind them.

"Galadriel will be here in a moment," he said. "So, tell me: do you have the Silmarils with you?"

"Yes," Brandon answered gravely. "Would you like to see them?"

"No," Thranduil answered immediately. "I would not."

The uneasy minutes ticked by.

"If I may ask," Brandon finally said, clearing his throat, "how did you know you needed to build a fortress?"

"Because Manwe told me to," Thranduil answered calmly.

"Manwe?" Legolas repeated slowly.

"Yes," Thranduil said. "I was not to tell anyone, but as the events are now in motion, I may speak of it. He came to me in a dream in Eryn Lasgalen, or rather, he brought my fea to his throne room in Valmar. He told me that it was time for me to sail to the blessed realm, that I would have a crucial role to play in preparing for Dagor Dagorath. His instructions were to build an impregnable cavern in the most ancient forest in Valinor and to begin training an army. He did warn me that the lords here would not believe me about the coming threat, that I would be alone in this." Thranduil shrugged. "I found I had little in common with them, in any case; the ones who stayed here and have never known the rigors of Arda Marred are quite boring. Those who made the return before me long ago grew soft in their extravagance. I stayed but a week in their glittering palaces before I could no longer stand it."

"You did not even look for my mother?" Legolas asked softly, to Sophia's surprise. She could feel that Legolas was angry, but his face showed no trace of emotion.

Thranduil shrugged again. "You know there was nothing between us, Legolas, beyond the fact that we produced you. She was free to find another mate, and she has. I wish her well. She survived the fall of Tirion and fled to Valmar - you will have a chance to see her there, as we have already discussed."

Legolas pressed his lips together.

"And what of your bond?" Thranduil drawled. "When do you intend to complete it?"

They were saved from answering by the entrance of Galadriel. She smiled slightly at Sophia, who wondered if the powerful elleth had timed her arrival on purpose. Galadriel's smile broadened and she inclined her head.

"Where is Elanordis?" Brandon abruptly asked her, and the smile disappeared completely from her face. She regarded Brandon sadly for a moment.

"I think you already know the answer to that question," Galadriel finally said, her deep voice whispering through every corner of the cavern.

"Tell me," Brandon insisted, much to Sophia's surprise.

"She fell at Tirion, along with her father. I am sorry, sorrier than I can say."

Brandon leapt to his feet, shaking his head. "No." It started as a whisper and quickly escalated o a shout, "no! You are wrong! I can still feel her! She is not dead."

"Brandon," Legolas said gently, reaching out for the distressed youth, who backed away from him, "I was there. I saw it happen. Elladan was mortally wounded, and she was killed, trying to protect him. Liriel was seriously wounded; she still hasn't regained consciousness."

"It's not true!" Brandon exclaimed, clenching his fists. "I'm telling you, I can feel that she's still alive!" All the elves looked at him with sympathy in their gazes, and he whirled away from them, turning desperately to his sister.

"You believe me, don't you? I swear, Soph. It's really faint, as though she's far away, but she's out there somewhere." His hands were open and out to his sides, his eyes pleading with her.

"I believe you," she said quietly, pulling him into an embrace. "What do you want to do?" she murmured into his ear.

"Go find her," he declared, pushing back from her. "Right away."

"No," Thranduil cut in, his voice nearly vibrating in Sophia's jaw. "It is far too dangerous."

"And you have a mission," Galadriel said more gently. "The fate of everyone who lives in Ea, who has ever lived, depends on your carrying the stones to Ezehollar now. There is no time for anything else; Melkor's forces are growing stronger by the minute. You must not deviate from this task, or we are all lost."

Brandon pulled the stone from his pocket and held it out. "You take it then," he commanded. "Because I'm going to find Elanordis."

Galadriel shrank away from his outstretched hand, and Thranduil gripped the arms of his throne tightly.

"I cannot," she breathed. "It must be the two of you."

"Don't you even care about her?" Brandon demanded. "Don't you care that she's out there, wounded, hurt, and alone, where she might be captured by orcs?"

Galadriel drew herself up to her considerable, full height, her eyes flashing pure white. "Mortal, do not presume to lecture me. She is mine own flesh and blood."

"Then come with me," Brandon insisted, standing so close to Sophia their shoulders were touching. "Because I am not going anywhere else until I find her."

Sophia held her breath, watching Galadriel. And while the furious elleth did not relax her rigid posture, her eyes faded to their normal silvery gray and the hardness around her mouth softened slightly. They all stood for a few minutes, Brandon glaring defiantly at them each in turn.

"Even if she lives, it is very likely a trap," Thranduil warned, and Sophia recognized the capitulation in his words.

"I don't care," Brandon insisted, crossing his arms.

"Do you not?" Galadriel whispered, looking down at the young mortal. "There will be a price - and it will be dear."

Brandon returned her stare, crossing his arms.

Thranduil nodded. "Very well," he said, ignoring a sharp look from Galadriel. "You should bathe, change your clothes, and eat something, and then we will set out when the moon is fully risen." He held up his hand as Brandon started to protest. "If we leave immediately, we will arrive at Tirion in the middle of the night, and that would be most unwise. They are at their strongest in the dark."

Brandon nodded slowly.

"You will find," Thranduil drawled, "that I have had mithril garments woven for you both. I suggest you wait to put those on until it is time to leave. They are not heavy, mind you, but can be a bit scratchy to the uninitiated. I will see you all for dinner in four hours, and we will leave soon after." He softened his tone, turning to Brandon. "I suggest you get some rest, if you can. There are difficult days ahead."

Galadriel left the room without a word or a backward glance.

"I will take my leave of you now, as well," Thranduil murmured, uncurling from his chair with feline grace. "I must send word to Valmar that we will be delayed. "

"Well," Sophia sighed, once he had gone. "That went well." She turned to Legolas. "Please tell me Glorfindel isn't here. I'm sure he'll try to bludgeon us into going straight to Valmar."

Legolas looked down at his fingertips.

"What?" she demanded.

"He was killed two days ago."

There was a shocked silence.

"How?" Brandon asked quietly.

Legolas closed his eyes. "A Balrog," he finally answered. "It seems to be his destiny. We split the force after the battle at Tirion, half coming back here and half going on to Valmar, and they were ambushed on the way. Glorfindel killed one, but another cut him down before Melian and Celeborn could help him. Celeborn was gravely injured, as well. It is likely that only Elrond can heal him, which is part of the reason for Galadriel's sense of urgency."

Brandon slid his hand into Sophia's, and they stood there, unable to speak.

"How is it possible that so much has happened?" Sophia finally whispered. "We've only been apart for four days."

"Time moves differently here," Legolas said gently, watching her closely. "A side effect of the separation from the rest of Arda. Come, I will show you to your rooms."

"Can we see Liriel first?" Brandon asked.

Legolas nodded, leading them from the hall.


	26. Chapter 26: The Forest for the Trees

_**Just a little update... Will try to finish this soon!**_

Sophia sank her shoulders into the warm water, a sigh of guilty pleasure rippling across the bathing pool. She submerged her head completely and wished briefly that she could just stay there, the outside world muffled and distant.

Nothing, however, could obscure the image in her mind of Liriel, lying so gray and still, but for the livid, puckering scar that snaked up from under the blankets, cutting across her clavicle. Another slash ran across her cheek, ending in a faint line on her chin. There would always be the fine silver line of scars, but other than that, the healers assured them she would be fine and just needed rest. Brandon had sobbed at her bedside nonetheless, grabbing the unconscious elleth's hand and vowing to bring her daughter back alive.

They had not stayed long.

Brandon had wanted to be alone after that, but Sophia had refused to leave him. Fortunately, Braichon had quietly appeared just as a furious argument was rising like a tornado. Sophia stomped away, cursing under her breath, when her brother suggested he'd rather be with the former Orc just then.

And so here she was, enjoying her own moment of solitude. She tilted her head to the side, as if listening to something, and blew bubbles outward in exasperation.

"Spoke too soon," she grumbled to herself, breaking back through the surface with a gasp, and then a sigh. It was time to get out, anyway - her fingers were already as puckered as stewed prunes.

Someone had left her a towel and a robe, and she climbed out of the tub and dried off, wrapping herself in the robe with shaking hands. She rubbed the towel against her head and then combed her fingers nervously through her wet hair. Nodding to herself, like some kind of silent pep talk, she took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the bathing room into her bedchamber.

"Don't believe in knocking?" she said, hands akimbo.

Legolas just smiled at her from the chair he was lounging in. "You knew I was here as soon as I came through the door."

"Still," she grumped, crossing to the bed to look critically at the clothing that had been left for her. She was relieved to see pants and not some floaty frock, like the giggling elleth wore. When she picked the pants up, the fabric under her fingers actually felt like a buttery, soft leather, and the shirt seemed to be made of the same material.

"Was your father joking when he said the mithril would be itchy?" she asked, now picking up the fine mesh overtunic and glancing at him sidelong.

Legolas smiled. "He was perhaps exaggerating. I wouldn't say it's itchy so much as you're aware of it, at least at first. But you'll forget you even have it on pretty quickly."

"Unless someone tries to kill me, from what Bran tells me."

"Right," Legolas agreed. "It's even better than kevlar."

Neither said anything, and Sophia quickly grew uncomfortable with the silence.

"You don't..." she said, at the exact same moment that Legolas started to talk.

"Go ahead," he encouraged her.

"No, no," she demurred, gripping the robe nervously. "You first."

He nodded and inhaled deeply, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped loosely together.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened. With your grandmother."

Sophia shook her head frantically, backing up until her calves smacked into the side of the bed.

"That's...that's not necessary," she stuttered. "It doesn't matter," she said more firmly. "It really doesn't."

"I want you to know," he insisted quietly, continuing without waiting for her to say anything else, rising from his chair and taking a step towards her. "I need you to know."

"I really don't want to talk about it." She answered quickly, grasping the robe tightly around herself and turning her face away. "Please," she whispered, "can't we just let it go?"

Legolas looked at Sophia in dismay, his shoulders slumping.

"Sure," he agreed, "sure. Another time, maybe." He stepped closer, and Sophia swallowed convulsively, leaning away from him. "This is real, what's between us," he whispered, "that wasn't." He reached awkwardly toward her, clenching his hand when she still wouldn't look at him.

"I know," she answered, frowning at the slight tremble in her voice and clearing her throat. "But look, I should really get dressed now."

Legolas nodded, and then sighed heavily. He turned to go, hesitated, and then abruptly turned back, reaching out to gently turn her face toward him. The kiss started out as just a light brush of the lips, but even that sent Sophia's blood racing through her body, all the way to the soles of her feet. She felt her lips moving with his, felt his hands on her back and her own winding around his waist, but she could not turn off the voice in her head. What if she wasn't good enough? He was so much older than she was, so much more experienced. He was perfect, in every possible way, and not even human, and she was, well, just her. I'm tainted, she thought, and then there was her grandmother. She tried to pull away from him, feeling nauseated, but he held her tightly.

_Don't think so much_, his voice whispered through her thoughts. He tried to kiss her again, but she turned her face away from him. _Stop reacting with your surface mind_, he thought desperately, _and imagine yourself reaching deep into the core of your mind, of your personality, past your fear and anger and uncertainty to the true soul of who you are and who you want to be. I can see it, Sophie, and it is more beautiful and more pure than you can imagine. You will find me there, if you can just look, burning for you like white pillar of flame. Nothing else matters. Nothing._

"I can't," she stammered, pushing him away. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just can't." A tear spilled out over her lid and trailed down her cheek. She wiped it away impatiently. "Please, I need to get ready. Just...just let me get ready now, okay?"

She covered her face with her hands and sat down on the bed. She had shut her mind off to him, so the only way she knew he had actually left the room was the quiet clack of the door closing.

When Sophia arrived in the banquet hall sometime later, Legolas was already there, slumped in his seat, staring stonily at a platter of uneaten food. Thraduil's head immediately snapped up and he glared right at Sophia.

"I hope at least the clothes please you," Thranduil said icily as she slipped into a seat next to Legolas.

"Father," Legolas said warningly.

"You have no idea what's about to happen," Thranduil cut him off, gritting his teeth, smacking his fists down on the table.

"Enough," Galadriel cut him off, without looking up from her plate on his other side. "Let the child be. She must make her own way."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and straightened in his chair, looking down at regal elleth. Then she straightened in her chair, too, until they were nearly eye level.

"You know it's not that simple," he said coldly, and Galadriel nodded slowly.

"Nothing ever is," she answered calmly.

"Yes, indeed. We're just pawns in a great cosmic game," Elrond's voice sliced through the tension. "And it's time for the next move." Though Elrond's words were bitter, the shadows on his face seemed to have receded somewhat.

"You should eat, ion nin," Galadriel said gently to him, gesturing to the seat next to her. "You will need all your strength soon."

Brandon had arrived with Elrond, who was gripping the young human's shoulder tightly.

"Let's go find my grandaughter," Elrond replied in a flat voice, and he turned away, his boots ringing against the stone floor. Brandon was close behind him.

"Yes," Thranduil finally said, rubbing his forehead. "I suppose it is time."

Galadriel rose smoothly from her seat, and much to Sophia's surprise, the elleth leaned over and kissed Thranduil on the cheek, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

"Come, my old friend, I will ride with you."

Thranduil looked up at her and smiled slightly, patting her hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Artanis," he said. "It will be an honor to fight by your side."

She nodded at him and glided away in the direction Elrond had taken. Thranduil turned and regarded his son, pursing his lips in amusement at the astonished look on Legolas's face.

"What?" the regal ellon asked innocently.

"Since when are you and Galadriel on such friendly terms?"

Thranduil shrugged, and a look of pain crossed his features, so quickly Sophia wondered if she'd imagined it.

"War has a way of making rivals into allies and allies into friends," he acknowledged, with a twist in his lips. "It usually doesn't survive the peace that follows, but perhaps this time will be different." Now his expression grew grim. "If any of us lives to see it. Come."

He pushed up from the table abruptly and strode away. Sophia and Legolas scrambled to follow.

_He's a little moody_, Sophia thought, shooting the elf an apologetic look.

_Indeed_, Legolas responded uneasily.

_Not that I should talk_.

He gave her a tight smile. _Let me go see if I can figure out what's going on_.

He patted her on the shoulder and plunged into the crowd of glittering elves, who had risen, benches scraping and weapons clattering, to follow their king. Sophia shuffled along in their midst, craning her head to try to see where Legolas went, and was carried upward in the mustering wave of movement to the forest above.

Soon, she emerged into the night air to see the waning moonlight gleaming across the elven force, settling into geometric perfection as they waited for the order to move. A few standards, blue and silver cleft triangles, fluttered in an uneasy breeze. At the head of the column of terrible beauty, Thranduil sat astride a huge dappled gray charger, with Galadriel next to him, an ethereal night glow dancing about her face and shining in her hair. Elrond slouched next to her, staring blankly ahead as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

Sophia and Brandon soon stood to the left flank of the eldar chiefs, along with Legolas, riding the horses they had brought with them from Middle Earth. The captain of the guard had advised against it, noting that these horses were untrained for battle, for the clash of arms and the reek of death, but Sophia had argued that the horses did not panic in the presence of orcs, or when the drones attacked them at the harbor.

The captain rode by just then, stared at her and then the horse, and muttered something to Legolas before turning away.

"What did he say?" Sophia demanded.

Legolas raised an eyebrow at her. "He does not have a high opinion of humans," he offered, as Sophia pursed her lips.

"Stupid elf," she muttered.

_We're all on the same side_, he chided her.

"Tell him that," she growled back. "He started it."

"Could you just shut up for once?" Brandon demanded loudly.

Sophia looked at him in shock, but his eyes were fixed on the rank of elves in front of them, as he sat rigid in the saddle. She blinked rapidly and looked down at the reins clutched in her hands.

A brief wash of sympathy from Legolas warmed her thoughts, but she was relieved he didn't try to say or think anything else. She did not want to talk about what happened between them, about her brother's hostility, or really about anything else just then.

As the horses started to move, Sophia lagged a bit, gradually letting Brandon move ahead until he began to blend in with the blur of warriors, sliding almost silently through the trees and toward whatever fate awaited them at Tirion.

After riding through the night, the host paused at the edge of the forest to wait for dawn before venturing out to open ground. Sophia winced as she eased off the horse and handed the reins to a young elf who was waiting to take the horses to feed and water. She stretched her back and legs, and shot the ellon a smile. He did not smile back, only inclining his head slightly, and their eyes met for just a second. In that glance, she realized that he was not young at all.

_None of them are_, she thought wryly. _Only I am_. Sophia walked around the camp, easing the cramps out of her legs and marveling again at how very quiet the soldiers were. She knew there had to be more than a thousand of them, all armored and carrying weapons, and yet all she could hear was the occasional quiet whisper.

She rubbed at her neck and looked up. The trees were thinner here, and she could just see a slice of bruised indigo sky through the branches. Sophia sat down wearily, leaning her back against the tree. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she reached under her tunic.

The spirit stone was warm with her body heat, and she closed her eyes as she gripped it. The stone's forest was nothing like the heavy, foreboding one she was actually in. This one was light and airy, with ripples of birdsong and the sound of water tripping over rocks somewhere just out of sight. The perfume of pine and leaves and fresh soil seemed to rise up and wrap around her, and she found herself relaxing, her eyes feeling heavy.

Too soon, a voice interrupted her sylvan sleep.

_Sophia_, Legolas said, _it's time to wake up now_.

She sat up slowly, stretching her arms over her head, and opened her eyes. He was crouched next to her, watching her. She smiled and reached out for him. Legolas warily took her hands.

"You have leaves in your hair," he murmured.

"It looks better like that," she yawned back at him, and felt him smile.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, tugging on his hands to pull him down next to her. "You might as well just tell me what you wanted to tell me," she added.

Legolas said nothing for a moment.

"Are you sure?"

"No, but who knows what's about to happen? I can only have so many people I care about not talking to me. So, just tell me." He just glanced at her skeptically, and she blew a strand of hair out of her face in annoyance. "I get it, I get it! okay? It's better that I know, so just get it over with."

He sighed and nodded, rubbing his thumb absently along her wrist. "Okay. Well. I guess I always figured I was meant to watch over Aragon's children from something of a distance," he began quietly, "until the time was right, just making sure they survived. Not interfering too much. And it was easier that way - I don't think I could have survived otherwise. I barely made it past the deaths of Aragon and Arwen."

"But as the years went by, no matter what we did, they kept dying too soon. I worried that maybe it was my fault, that it wasn't good enough just to watch over them. So, I started getting more involved. And then your grandmother came along. She was bold and fearless, and I told her the prophecy when she was still a young girl. As she grew older, she became convinced that it could only be fulfilled through an actual bond. An eldar bond. And I can't lie to you," he closed his eyes, "I was attracted to her. So, when she came of age, I agreed."

He glanced at Sophia, but she had fallen into her unreadable emptiness. Legolas just shook his head slightly and continued, still holding her hands tightly in his own.

"When we...when we lay together, I knew right away that it was wrong - so very wrong. I felt nothing. Worse than nothing, actually. The actual act was repugnant to me - I could hardly bear to touch her after that. I told her right away that it wasn't going to work, that I could not love her that way."

He closed his eyes.

"She was very, very angry. At first, she just wouldn't talk to me. Then she refused to see me at all. Not long after that, she had an affair with one of her bodyguards and became pregnant. She always insisted the baby was mine, but elves only breed by intention. It was simply not possible for me to father a child unless I meant to." He opened his eyes, sighing, with an apologetic look.

"He was a good man, your grandfather, and he wanted to do right by her and the baby - she agreed to marry him, though she told Elladan it was only to spite me. Anyway, it didn't last, and she demanded that he be sent away. He later disappeared on a mission - I'm sorry to say that we never knew what happened to him."

"Your grandmother became increasingly erratic after that, claiming that she was my queen and your father was a prince, and, well, you know what happened next."

He looked at Sophia, who didn't even appear to be breathing.

"What do you want me to say?" she finally asked him, her voice faint.

"That you understand," he prompted.

"What am I supposed to understand?" she asked, her voice rising now.

"That this," he raised their joined hands up, "is different."

Sophia snorted, staring stubbornly at the tree root behind Legolas's shoulder. "Why? Because some stupid prophecy says so?"

"No," Legolas answered steadily, "I think the "strong bond" in the prophecy is the one you have with Brandon. What's between us is just about us. Well, I believe it's Eru's will, because we wouldn't have a fea connection, otherwise."

She finally looked at him. "Do you really believe that?"

"I really do," he said softly.

"So, you can bear to touch me, then?" Sophia whispered.

He brought her hand up to his mouth, answering with a kiss, pressed gently into her palm. Sophia leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes, and tried to shut out the noise of her own mind, the swishing sound of trees bending before the wind, the rattle of her fears. In the darkness of her internal field of perception, for just one moment, she thought she could see her own heart beating, a yellow and orange pulse. The warm glow suddenly flared white in the middle, so bright it was hard to look at, even through the lens of her mind. She gasped and opened her eyes, staring at Legolas. He stared back, and he let her see him as he really was, the ancient and alien light that shone through his eyes, the sharpened features and attenuated limbs and ears, something the eldar usually hid from the sight of mortals, unless they were aiming for intimidation.

And she was not afraid.

"I love you," she whispered, and he kissed her open palm again, before rising fluidly to his feet and pulling her along. Sophia started as she realized there were elves moving through the trees around them. It was time to go.

"You are my soul," he agreed, "forever. No matter happens or where we are, always."

They walked slowly, minds mingling wordlessly, to where the squires held their horses, where the main host was gathering, where the edge of the forest met the dawn.


	27. Chapter 27: Do Not Go Gentle

A drop of sweat trickled down Sophia's nose, and she brushed it off impatiently.

_I thought this place was supposed to be a perfect 70 degrees every day_, she grumbled to Legolas.

_Me too_, he answered calmly. _Valinor is out of balance_.

The late morning sun seemed to pulse with a heavy heat, and even the elves wilted under its suffocating weight. They had long left the deep green of the forest behind and were traveling through gently rolling hills, brown and gray with dust and dry vegetation. Sophia's leathery clothing, which had seemed so light when she put it on, now clung unpleasantly to her damp skin as she shifted in the saddle.

_Are we almost there_?

_Yes_, Legolas promptly responded. _I can see the castle over the next rise_.

Sophia craned her neck and peered over the ranks of elves in front of her, seeing nothing but the shimmer of moisture hanging over hardscrabble hills.

_It's not visible to human eyes yet_, he added.

She turned and scowled at him, and saw his eyebrows lift at her.

_Yeah, well, humans have their special skills, too._

_Such as?_

_I'll let you know when I figure it out_, she thought loftily.

Legolas suddenly stiffened in his saddle and looked straight ahead, his face tight.

_We're to stay outside the castle_, he thought quietly. _Your brother will go inside with Elrond, Galadriel and about half the host - they think there may be Orcs inside. My father will stay by the castle gate with an honor guard, and we're to remain close by with the rest of our troops._

She did not even bother to try to hide her worries about her brother.

_Your father still thinks it's a trap?_

She could feel Legolas wincing before he nodded. Sophia sighed and tried to close her thoughts off. Even if it was a trap, there wasn't much they could do. Brandon would never just leave Elanordis to her fate. Nor did Sophia blame him; she recognized that if the situation were reversed, she would do the same. Even if she knew it was hopeless.

_Even if it meant the end of the world?_

_I was trying not to think at you...well, you know what I mean._

"I want you to promise me something," Legolas suddenly said out loud, moving his horse so close to hers that the usually patient mare whickered and stomped a hoof in alarm. Sophia patted the horse's neck soothingly, humming softly.

She glanced up at Legolas, who was leaning as close as he could.

"Promise me," he demanded, "that you will get the stones to Ezehollar. No matter what happens."

Sophia rolled her eyes.

"It's not a joke," he snapped.

She looked at him, startled. "Okay," she breathed, "fine. I promise."

"You will take them there, no matter what?"

"Yes, I promise," she repeated, growing nervous at the intensity of his gaze.

"Good," he nodded, giving her a thin smile.

"Is there..." she started nervously. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

He never had a chance to answer her, though, as the skies suddenly darkened and the air was torn with a high, mechanical whine, and then a roar of sound, bellowing from thousands of throats. Ataahua whinnied and began plunging around in confusion, and Sophia struggled to control her. She didn't see the arrows raining down on them until one slammed into her shoulder, another into the horse's flank and then neck. The mare reared, screaming in pain and plunging blindly. Sophia was thrown from the saddle, and the horse galloped away. Suddenly, the whining sound grew louder, and through a glaze of pain, Sophia realized what it was. A wall of white light flickered up around her into the air just as the wasp drones appeared over the battlefield, sending hundreds pelting to the ground around her dome of light.

Unfortunately, the light did not stop arrows the way it had in Middle Earth - or orcs, as a salient of hundreds of warriors broke through and headed directly for Sophia. Elves appeared in the open space in front of her, feet flying over the dry grass. They crashed into the frontline of the Orcs, mowing them down. Sophia struggled to her feet, shoulder throbbing as the movement pulled at the arrow.

"Stay down!" Legolas shouted at her as he battled an Orc that had penetrated the rank of elven warriors. "You must keep that shield up!"

She started to object, but the sound of a shaft slicing through the air warned her with just seconds to spare to duck as an arrow whistled over her head. Sophia crouched to the ground, pulling her sword out, not even feeling her wound anymore.

The arrows soon stopped flying, but that was not actually good news, as it meant the elven force was being overwhelmed. Across the battlefield, closer to the castle walls, Sophia could also see something flashing in what little light was filtering through the dark clouds. She didn't have much time to wonder what it was, though, as she was soon forced to stand and fight.

Sophia was back-to-back with Legolas, as a seemingly endless torrent of Orcs battered them. More than once, she had cause to be grateful for the mithril, which the Orc swords seemed unable to pierce, though she winced as a particularly hard blow landed across her side. She knew the bruises across her body would tell a livid story of just how many times the armor had saved her life. And once, in a blur of thrusts and parries and a dash of deja vu, she saw a massive Uruk Hai charging her, with a doubled bladed axe raised over its head. Sophia gritted her teeth and tensed to try to whirl away, when a blur of motion flowed in front of her, meeting the axe with a clang that echoed through her jaw. Thranduil's captain of the guard had blocked the attack with his sword, which broke in half under the force of the blow. The axe blade sliced through his clavicle and stuck there for a moment. The hard-eyed elf staggered, blood spraying from the wound as the Uruk wrenched his weapon free. Sophia lunged forward and slashed the giant beast across the throat, and it immediately dropped the axe and fell, a look of surprise in its dying eyes.

Sophia turned to the elf captain, who was on his knees.

"Let me help you!" She said frantically, pressing her hands against the ragged flesh and splintered bone.

He cried out, and then bit his lip, shaking his head.

"N'uma," he said, voice quivering. "N'uma. Vara...i'taren... Vara...Silmarils..." Blood began flowing from his mouth, and she nodded to him, tears in her eyes. She eased him to the ground.

_Sophia_!

She felt Legolas screaming across the bond as much as she heard him, looking up just in time to see a jagged metal maw snapping toward her.

_The ring!_ His voice was so loud in her mind she winced, but lashed out with a dagger of white light, which glinted across the jagged teeth, which were attached to a massive metal creature, taller than a horse and twice as broad. Suddenly, the square head stopped, one leg suspended in the airc, just inches away from her.

_It works_! She thought jubilantly, and began pushing the force across the blood-soaked field, where the strange metal creatures, blocky and lumbering, were intermingled with the orcs, crushing elves under their stump-like legs and tearing through armor with their sawblade jaws, nearly cutting elves in half.

She concentrated, frying as many as she could, while Legolas stood in front of her, protecting her from the Orcs, which were again flooding toward her en masse. Sophia glanced at him and realized with horror that they were about to be overrun.

_Help us!_ She thought desperately, not even sure who she was reaching for as she stood and began fighting alongside Legolas again, her whole body shaking with fatigue and fear.

And then, much to her surprise, someone answered her. It was little more than an impression, really, a pulse of power, of reassurance, traveling through her thoughts like a whisper. It was not Legolas, not Galadriel, not anyone she knew.

_Someone is coming to help us,_ she thought to Legolas, turning to look at him. And so she had a clear view of the stroke that cut him down. The blade caught him hard in the upper chest, and he staggered back, even as the sword bounced up and caught him under the chin, nearly decapitating him. He dropped his sword as he clasped his own torn throat, his eyes wide with terror. Sophia screamed, flinging herself forward desperately and cutting the Orc across the backs of his legs, his arteries exploding and knees shattering under the force of her strike. As he died, his blade fell and struck Legolas again on the skull, and he fell, too, the Orc crumpling on top of him.

Sophia scrabbled forward desperately, pushing and pulling the massive corpse away, her hands slippery with blood.

_Nonononono_ she howled in her mind, as she felt Legolas dying underneath his killer.

"Legolas!" she cried as she finally wrenched the Orc off of him. She pulled him into her lap, hunched over his body, her arms wrapped around him. "Legolas!" she sobbed, not noticing the dark-haired elf who had appeared suddenly by her side, clad in a simple gray tunic and pants, wielding a sword in each hand. He fought silently and fiercely, an uncanny ballet of graceful slaughter. The Orcs fell all around Sophia like grotesque supplicants, until there were none left and the sounds of battle began to recede.

She rocked back and forth over Legolas's body as his soul dwindled and collapsed, like a candle going out for lack of air, extinguishing something bright and bubbling in her own heart, and she screamed, sending a electromagnetic pulse of light rushing off her body. The ragged, siren sound that tore from her throat and the white flash echoed off the castle walls, almost a mile away. Suddenly, the dark smudge across the sun began to break apart in greasy wisps, rays of sun twirling through onto the carnage, and the tide turned for good, as the remnant of the elven force hacked down the fleeing Orcs.

But Sophia saw none of it. She just bowed her head over Legolas's body, still swaying, tears cascading down her cheeks. She pressed her lips to his forehead, tasting his blood on her tongue, and sobbed. Eventually, she became aware that someone else was there, and glanced up, seeing an elf with long, dark hair flowing wildly around him, perched on one knee a few feet away. He was watching her, and the look in his eyes was haunted with ancient secrets and unfathomable pain.

She did not want the burden of his empathy. "Go away," Sophia groaned, voice husky.

The elf just continued to look at her intently.

"Please just go away," she repeated, closing her eyes. He murmured something in a low, melodious voice, but she paid him no attention as he rose to his feet and began searching through the bodies around them. Soon, he made a pleased humming sound as he found a saddlebag and rooted through it.

He soon came back to Sophia's side and said something to her, but she scarcely even saw him. He gently tapped her shoulder, next to the arrow still embedded there, and she winced. He said something again, and she glanced at him. He had bandages in his hands, and a bottle of something. She shrugged and hung her head, and he nodded, moving closer.

The ellon carefully peeled away her armor and tunic and poured the liquid from the bottle on the cloths. Without warning, he ripped the arrow out her shoulder, and Sophia cried out, her vision dimming as a wave of pain choked her, roaring in her ears. The ellon said something that sounded apologetic and held the cloth hard against the wound. Sophia glared at him and swore, but he seem undeterred, pouring more brown goop onto a cloth, and then patiently cleaning the wound, his fingers warm and his voice low and singsong. Sophia closed her eyes and ground her teeth, determined not to cry out again. Once the wound was cleaned to his satisfaction, the elf bound her shoulder tightly, tying the bandage off. He asked her a question, and she just looked at him uncomprehendingly, still clutching Legolas in her arms. He mimed looking at his legs and arms, making a slashing motion.

"What?" She asked, as he repeated the slashing motion, pointing at her. "Oh. You want to know if I am injured anywhere else? No. Nowhere you can heal." She started to cry again, and the elf gave her that hollow look, nodding his head. He sat next to her and resumed patting her back.

They were still sitting like that when Thranduil found them.

"Sophia," he called softly to her. "Thank Eru. We have been looking everywhere for you..."

He stopped abruptly when he saw a patch of still shining hair on the ruined body in her arms and sucked in a deep breath, bowing his head. The ellon who had been kneeling next to Sophia rose, and Thranduil looked at him, brow creasing at the sight of an unfamiliar elf. He was tall, taller even than Thranduil, who towered over most of his people, with burning eyes as dark as his midnight hair.

"Who are you?" Thranduil asked in Sindarin.

The elf's mouth twisted and he answered apologetically in Quenya that he did not understand. Thranduil nodded. He had deliberately forgotten what he knew of the ancient language back in Middle Earth, stubbornly obeying the command of a long-dead king, but he had had to relearn it to get by in Valinor.

"The wound," the mysterious ellon answered, "was poisoned. I have treated her, but she will need to rest."

Thranduil nodded, but did not trust himself to speak. He stepped forward and crouched next to Sophia.

"Daughter," he said softly, "he is beyond our help now. We must go."

"No!" Sophia cried, clutching the blood-soaked body closer. "I won't leave him! You can't make me!"

Thranduil closed his eyes and rubbed a finger against his temple. "You must," he said tiredly. "We must leave this place."

"You're going to just walk away?" She demanded, glaring at him. "Don't you care? Don't you care that he's dead?"

"Of course I do!" He growled at her, and anger roiled up out of his viscera, crackling like a wave of heat over his skin. And he knew immediately that the girl had seen through his illusions - she had seen the cold fire of his eyes, the pointed canines, and the death's head ruin of his face. He instantly regretted his lack of self control when she recoiled and blanched, eyes darting away.

"Of course I do," he repeated more calmly, willing the smoothness of his cheek, the roundness of his ears and human warmth of his gaze back. He leaned forward, pretending not to notice her cower, and touched a finger to Legolas's bloodied cheek, his shoulders shuddering. "He was my only child, whom I loved more than my own flesh and fea from the very moment of his birth. There is another kind of bond, the one between parent and child for elves, and it can be very strong, as was mine to Legolas." A corner of Thranduil's mouth quirked up. "Children do not always feel it quite as strongly once they become adults. And so I have waited for him for a long time and would like nothing better than to cast myself down beside him right now and join him where he sleeps. But that would be a betrayal of everything Eru asked him to live and die for, and a betrayal of the charge the Valar laid on me. We must go."

Sophia shook her head. "Did you know?" she finally whispered. "Did they tell you this would happen?" He did not immediately answer her.

"You did, didn't you?" She accused at him, her voice high and thin. "And so did he," she suddenly realized with dismay, as she thought about what Legolas had asked of her just before the Orcs and the machines attacked them. She turned furiously on Thranduil. "How could you let us come, knowing that he would die here?"

Thranduil sighed. "I did not know if it would be right here and right now, just soon and saving you. Manwe told me so that I would not lose my mind to grief, so I could remember that there is only one way I can ever be with my son."

Thranduil forced the human to meet his gaze, and dropped the illusion again. "You are not the only one who suffers," he whispered, his voice eerie and spectral like the scrape of leaves on a winter breeze.

The dark-haired elf suddenly interrupted Thranduil, narrowing his eyes at the woodland King.

"He wants me to tell you," the regal elf spoke slowly, pulling his illusions around him again like a cloak, "that he is very sorry for you, that there is no way to heal a torn soul. But," Thranduil frowned slightly, "he says that you will see your love again if you bring the Silmarils to the altar. Did you tell him about the stones?"

"No," Sophia answered dully.

Thranduil stared hard at the tall elf, a shiver crawling across the back of his neck. "Well," he muttered to himself, "he's hardly the only one who can sense them." He sighed, trying not to look at his child's last remains. "He is right. Do you understand? If we succeed in getting the Silmarils to Ezehollar, it will bring Legolas back. This is foretold: on the Day of Doom, the elves will return from the Halls of Mandos. You can see him again, you will see him again, but only if you leave him now and fulfill your own destiny. You must be strong - for him, for all of us."

The tall elf glided closer and held a hand out to her, and Sophia looked up at him. Finally, she looked back down at Legolas, eyes swimming, and slowly, gently lowered him to the ground. She kissed his lips, and got up, her own lips bloodied, and the stranger reached out to steady her. She nodded and inclined her head, and then turned toward the castle, squinting into the now bright sun.

"Let's go," she said, her voice as dry as the barren ground around them.

Thranduil wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she walked away without another word or a backward glance. But it did give him time to kneel next to his son and whisper something, pressing his forehead gently to a still-warm hand and crossing them both across Legolas's chest. He rose swiftly, dabbing at his forehead, and followed the girl and her elf sentinel, pausing once to take a last look at his son.

He was not actually sure he believed that what he had told the girl, but recognized that hope would have to be enough. It had been millennia since he had felt hopeful, though, and he wished ruefully that he were not so out of practice.

They walked toward the castle, and soon saw elven riders coming out of the gates toward them, dust flying up under their horses' hooves.

"It's Galadriel," Thrandiul murmured, "with your brother and Elrond. They have Elanordis. She is injured and very weak, but alive."

Sophia did not acknowledge him or show any reaction at all.

"We should wait here," he added, feeling helpless, and not particularly liking the unfamiliar sensation.

Soon, the riders were upon them, and he saw with grim relief that there were a number of riderless horses. It was not a good thing, of course, given that it meant more of his warriors were gone, but it also meant her, Sophia, and the other elves they had fought with would have mounts. His beloved Brethildor, named for a long dead friend, had died beneath him, and there were many other horses strewn around the battlefield.

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he failed to sense the fury radiating from Galadriel until she had leapt from her saddle and was standing in front of the dark-haired elf.

"You!" She shouted in Quenyan, "How dare you! You stay away from her, do you hear me?!" She rounded on Sophia. "Did he take it? Did he?" Sophia just stared at the furious elleth.

Thranduil started and stared at Galadriel. "What? What is it?" He asked her, not even realizing he was still speaking English.

"Do you not know who this is?" She responded in Quenyan. Thranduil shook his head, glancing at Elrond, who looked similarly perplexed.

"This is all his fault!" she shouted dramatically, pounding her chest with her fist, her eyes pulsing bright silver. "Curufinwe Feanaro, who should by all rights be cursed for all time and never allowed to return, even when the world is made anew. And yet, here he is."

"Feanor," Thranduil said in disbelief, staring at the handsome elf, who stood tall and straight. Only the grief in his black eyes hinting that he was not the same elf who had once challenged the gods.

"Indeed," Feanor said, in his deep, melodious voice. "And it is good to see you, too, niece," he said, with just a dash of sarcasm. "The girl called to me, and I came. I did not take the Silmaril from her, nor will I, but I will make sure she gets it to the altar, even if it cost me my immortal soul. One cannot die twice, you know," he added mildly.

Everyone stared at him.

"Well, then," Elrond finally said in English. "We'd best get going. Shall we?"


	28. Chapter 28: In the Cave

_**Thanks so much for the reviews! makes all the difference... Close to the end now...**_

Thranduil rode close to Galadriel, whose face was still churning like a thunderhead. She kept shooting angry glares across Thranduil at her uncle, who rode next to Sophia.

"I do not like that he is so near her," Galadriel growled.

Thranduil shook his head in frustration, eyes sweeping back and forth across the open fields around them. The wind was gusting and swirling as they rode, and he squinted against the grit that blew across his face. "You will just have to trust what he says," the woodland elf said tiredly. "What choice do we have?"

"There is always a choice!" Galadriel glared at Thranduil.

"Is there?" He answered mildly, raising his eyebrow at her, and was surprised to see a maidenly blush stain her cheek.

"I beg your pardon, Thranduil," she finally said. They rode in silence for a time. "I have been bracing myself for the blow we have both long foreseen, but I was still unprepared. I felt it when he died," she finally added softly, though her voice was as clear as f it had been piped directly into his ear. "He was such a bright light in this world, I suspect we all felt it." He was stunned to see a tear fall out of her eye and roll unimpeded down her cheek. First a blush and now this? It was almost human behavior, and the ancient elleth had never shown an inclination towards such sentimentality in her long life. "We knew it would happen, but that does not make it any easier, I know. I am so very sorry, ion nin."

Thranduil nodded his thanks to her. He knew he could not afford to dwell on the loss of Legolas, and suddenly, he understood the reason for her emotional turbulence. "And Celeborn?" He asked her. "How does he fare?"

"Still alive," she answered grimly. "I pray that Iluvatar keep him that way just a little longer. I have only just become used to feeling my bond with him once again; I am not certain I could withstand having it severed a second time." She stared hollowly ahead of them.

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder to where Elrond rode with Brandon, who held Elanordis before him in the saddle. "And what of the elfling? Will she survive?"

Galadriel's face fell still. "I cannot say for certain," she answered. "We found her under her father's body, where she had lain for days. Elrond and I have healed her, for the most part, but she has still not spoken."

Thranduil clenched his jaw tightly. "Any word of her mother and the others who set out for Valmar?"

Galadriel nodded. "It seems they have made it safely there with the hobbits. Thranduil," she said worriedly, "is Sophia...is she capable of fighting?"

He glanced over at the girl, who slumped, expressionless in the saddle. "I do not know," he admitted, "but I am trying my best to embrace hope. Because if she cannot, we are all lost. They should have never been allowed to bond."

Galadriel pressed her lips together grimly. "It was not up to us to allow it or deny it, my friend."

Thranduil nodded and sighed gustily, peering up at the sky. "It seems ironic to me that we have whetted our blades on this fight for many millennia, built our cities and watched them burn over and over again, clawed at the future til our fingers bled, all of it to be ready for this moment, right now. And here we are, with our fate in the hands of a couple of mortal children."

Galadriel made no response and they rode again in silence.

"We could make it just after nightfall," he finally observed. "But I somehow doubt that Melkor will allow us to reach Valmar in the dark unimpeded."

Galadriel nodded. "Indeed," she murmured. "Let us go into the woods and tend to the wounded and start again in the morning."

Thranduil nodded. "We can reach one of my outer sanctuaries before dark."

They agreed and rode on in silence.

The tattered group of elves made camp that night, huddling in a slick-walled cavern. Feanor never left Sophia's side, and Galadriel kept a close eye on him, glowering with her arms crossed over her chest. Thranduil, in turn, watched Galadriel, not trusting her to keep her temper and fearing for what would happen if she lost it. Thranduil didn't trust the old elf, either, but it could be no accident that the kinslayer had appeared at this particular moment. He suddenly glanced over his shoulder to the cave mouth, as if another long-dead ellon might appear at any second.

_Could you at least have had the decency to return Thingol first_? he thought wistfully, rolling his eyes skyward. Or his own sire, for that matter.

He glanced over at Elrond, who was pressing food on his granddaughter. She still had not uttered a word, and her human lover hovered over her anxiously. Thranduil realized with some annoyance that the boy had not yet even tried to comfort his sister. He rose and strode across the cavern.

"I would speak with you," Thranduil announced to the young human.

"King Thranduil," Brandon said in surprise, "of course, but can it wait? I don't want to leave Ela alone."

"It cannot," Thranduil said evenly, keeping his irritation in check, just barely. Elrond frowned up at him, but he ignored the healer.

They walked to the mouth of the cave, and Thranduil extended his senses to the forest around them. He knew dark creatures lurked in the edge of the woods, but so far, none of them had managed to come inside the tree line. He just prayed that the defenses would hold until morning. If not, the ancient woods would give the elves some advantage, but they were hardly in top condition to face an army right now.

"Did you want something, your majesty?" Brandon said, looking nervously back over his shoulder.

"How fares your...paramour?" Thranduil asked with formal courtesy. Brandon looked at the elf king sharply.

"Elanordis," he stressed the name, "is physically fine, but she seems to be in shock. I can feel her mind, but she hasn't spoken yet."

"I see," Thranduil responded, lacing his hands together behind his back. "Your sister is not speaking much, either," he observed.

Brandon frowned. "What? Why not?"

Thranduil turned to him in astonishment, dropping his hands to his sides. "Is it possible you do not know?" He asked incredulously.

"Know what?" Brandon answered defensively, fidgeting with the edge of his tunic.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Galadriel warned you there would be a price, and it has been paid."

Brandon took a step away from Thranduil, his eyes flaring wide.

"Legolas was killed in the battle. He died in your sister's arms. You truly did not even notice his absence?"

Brandon's mouth fell open, and the color drained from his face. He snapped his mouth shut and stared at Thranduil in horror.

"I...I didn't know," he stammered, "why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Surely you heard her scream," Thranduil said, relenting slightly when he saw that the boy was shaking. "What did you think that sound could possibly mean? That she stubbed her toe?"

"I am...I am," Brandon took a deep breath, "I am so sorry. God. He was your son."

Thranduil inclined his head. "So his mother told me."

"I...I...have to go."

Brandon backed away and fled back into the cavern. Thranduil watched him approach Galadriel, who nodded as the boy whispered to her and rose with one more black look at Feanor before crossing the cave to sit beside Elrond.

Brandon immediately sat on the ground next to his sister, and Thranduil met Feanor's eyes over the siblings' heads. Feanor moved to stand beside the woodland King.

"Soph," Brandon said softly, taking her cold hand between his own. She did not respond to him, did not even look at him. "I didn't know," he whispered lamely. "I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry. It's all my fault..."

"Shut up," Sophia interrupted him stonily.

"Soph," he said pleadingly. "If I had known..."

"Don't," she cut him off, still without looking at him. "Don't pretend you would have done anything differently."

He shifted uncomfortably and looked at the rough floor in front of them, but he did not relinquish her hand, nor did she pull away from him. Thranduil considered that a promising sign and held his breath.

"Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" Sophia said.

"She has her family with her," Brandon answered, not taking his eyes off Sophia, who finally flicked a glance at him. "They will take care of her." He scooted closer and put his arms around his sister. She did not lean into him, did not speak again, but she also did not push him away, and Thranduil released the breath he was holding.

"I never would have thought it, you know. Secondborn. But there must be a reason the Silmarils chose them," Feanor murmured.

Thranduil glanced at him, arching a brow. "Chose?"

Feanor gave him a slight smile. "Laurelin and Telperion were sentient," he said. "They gave their essence to me willingly, and the stones retain some of their will. The Silmarils can be taken, of course, but not kept."

"How long have you known this?" Thranduil asked with genuine curiosity.

"Not long enough," Feanor sighed. "Or perhaps too long."

"Forgive me for asking, but why did the trees allow you to make the Silmarils in the first place, if you were unworthy?"

"Oh, I am not unworthy," Feanor corrected him. "Not at all. It just was not my time."

Thranduil clenched his jaw, staring at Feanor.

"The trees knew this day would come, of course. Only I could make the Silmarils, and only I can unmake them. This is the higher purpose of my life - to prove worthy at the right time." Feanor glanced across the room to where Galadriel was bent over her great granddaughter, a soft golden light dancing around her. "Though I do not think my niece will ever believe that."

"Well," Thranduil drawled, "she might wonder how leaving her to fend for herself on the Helcaraxe fit into your "higher purpose." Or if your murderous sons were just waiting around for the right time. And please, do warn me if that time is now, because I want to make sure I am ready to welcome them _properly_."

Feanor bowed his head and clasped his hands together. "I am sorry. I had not realized you were one of the elves to follow Artanis."

Thranduil snorted. "I assure you, I was not. I was born in Menegroth."

"You are moriquendi?" Feanor asked curiously, looking more closely at the silver-haired King. "That explains your poor Quenyan."

Thranduil had not heard the offensive term "moriquendi" since Artanis had first arrived in Doriath, before Celeborn gave her a name and showed her who she could become. It was a time he had long ago crushed under sedimentary layers of memories. He lowered his head and looked up from under his brows at Feanor, and his form seemed to shimmer, as with heat off a flame. Feanor talked on, oblivious. "How was it, then, to grow up in Endor? I only passed a handful of days on those shores before I met my end, but never have I felt more alive. I was not at home in Aman, you see. So restrained. So polite. I always felt as though I were acting well-rehearsed steps in a minstrel show. It was not living," Feanor wriggled his fingers dismissively.

"I know what you mean," Thranduil said thoughtfully, his ire cooling.

"Will you tell me?" Feanor asked companionably, placing a hand on the woodland king's shoulder. "Tell me something of your life in Middle Earth? If it causes you pain," he qualified hastily, "then please refrain, but I am very curious to know more about the world I would have made my home. Where my "murderous sons" met their ends - all but one." Feanor scanned the cavern with a curious mix of unease and eagerness.

"He is not here," Thranduil said softly, sinking to sit on the stone floor. "But you will find him at Valmar. What is it you would like to know?"

The two ancient elves spoke softly, late into the night. They were both so absorbed in their conversation that neither noticed Elanordis creeping quietly away from her dozing grandfather. Galadriel had gone out into the forest to scout some time before.

Suddenly, Feanor put a hand on Thranduil's sleeve and caught his eye. The woodland King fell silent and followed Feanor's gaze to the sleeping mortals. Elanordis had worked her way over to them and sat, huddled up, gazing at Sophia until the young woman woke up with a start. She sat up warily, and Elanordis promptly crawled onto her lap and wrapped her arms around Sophia.

"He wanted me to tell you," she said hoarsely, her words muffled against Sophia's good shoulder, "that he was sorry. He didn't mean to hurt you - he felt so bad about it. It was the last thing he said, that he was sorry. Then he died. He just died and he left me there. There were orcs and I...I hid. He was still warm when I crawled under him."

Sophia hesitated briefly, and then raised a shaking hand, holding it over Elanordis's bowed head. Slowly, she began to stroke the ellyth's tangled hair, and Elanordis began to shake.

"Shhh, shhh," Sophia breathed, holding the sobbing ellyth and rocking back and forth.

Thranduil noticed that the boy was watching them both through slitted eyes, pretending to be asleep. A tear escaped out the corner of Brandon's eye, rolling across his face and down his nose. Feanor sighed.

"It is good," he whispered. "They will heal. I have seen this before."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. "Have you now?" He guffawed. "Perhaps it is time you told me something of your life, then."

Feanor shook his head sadly. "Nay, my friend, all of my stories have been told. There is nothing left to say."

"Well, what of the Halls of Mandos then?"

Feanor shook his head, with a small shiver. "It is best not spoken of."

Thranduil regarded the once-proud elf and leaned toward him. "I would know my son's fate," he growled pointedly.

Feanor shivered again, closed his eyes, and then finally nodded slowly. He took a deep breath and looked at Thranduil. "I suspect it may be different for each of us who passes on, depending upon our sins." He steepled his fingers together, his eyes losing focus. "For me, it was a void, a blank and formless scrim, with no sound and no light and no other consciousness to keep me company. My limbs were unbound, but that was of no account, for when you feel not the pull of gravity, you have no sense of motion. Except that I could see one thing. I was able to see an image of the world I left unfold post mortem, as though I were sitting in a darkened chamber, peering through a small window at a play on a stage. And I could only watch, not speak, not scream, not even weep. Watch as my beautiful boy, my firstborn, was tortured and maimed. Only watch as he cut his way through his kin, lost his sanity and then his life, all in service to a vow I made him take. I watched my other sons embrace madness, killing the innocent in a perversion of righteousness. I could not look away, so I know that they deserved death, and that my last son deserved the death in life he received, wandering alone for all time. I saw my wife, shunned and alone, curse the day I was born, and sigh with relief when she finally heard I was dead. And then I watched the last of my line seduced by Sauron, and oh, how desperately I wished to warn him! I would have given anything to spare him his fate, but I had nothing left to give that the Valar would accept. So instead I watched. Just watched. That poor child, so entranced by the flame of creation, just like me, was skinned alive and stretched out like a banner on a pole. He suffered - oh, how he suffered!" Feanor shook himself and pressed his lips together, giving Thranduil, who stared at him open mouthed, an apologetic look.

"It is not so for your son, I am certain of that." he stated grimly. "I have seen him, observed him for a thousand years and more. He had nothing to regret. Nothing to atone for. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"I hope you are right," Thranduil muttered under his breath. The two young women had fallen asleep in each other's arms, with Brandon pressed alongside.

"This one," Feanor said softly, dipping his chin toward Sophia, "called and the Valar finally allowed me a voice. They let me answer. I have been waiting for this moment for so long, and I will stand by her, no matter the cost." Feanor and Thranduil watched the three friends sleep, not speaking again until morning, when Galadriel reappeared in the cave and announced it was time to go.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Been away for awhile, so here's a recap: a group of elves and Maiar have stayed in Middle Earth to watch over the descendents of Elros. They are waiting to fulfill the Third Prophecy of Mandos, which implies that the descendents will unite with the firstborn to carry the Silmarils back to Valinor for the final showdown with Melkor, or Dagor Dagorath (the end of Ea). The thing is, Sophia and Brandon, a brother and sister in Los Angeles, CA, have no idea they are the children of destiny, or that the man they think of as their grandfather is actually an immortal being. The death of their mentally ill mother sets off a chain of events that sees them fleeing a Balrog only to be taken prisoner by a group of Uruk Hai on an erupting volcano. They escape in a damaged plane, which crashes in the Pacific Ocean, where they are eventually rescued by Earendil the Mariner, who takes them to Gray Havens, or Dunedin, New Zealand as it is now known. After a deadly battle on Mount Aspiring, the siblings are stranded in a Middle Earth corrupted by Melkor when the elves leave for Valinor. Eventually, they make their way to Valinor, too, for the final battle. Along the way, they find love, lose it on the battlefield, and discover where hobbits come from. In this chapter, Sophia and Brandon are making their way to Valmar with Thranduil and Feanor (who has just been rehoused) to return the Silmarils to Ezehollar, hopefully bringing the elves back from the Halls of Mandos and the Valar to the fight with Melkor. No one is too excited about this, as it seems unlikely to succeed, and even if it does, the prophecy suggests the world will then end.**_

A fetid, lazy breeze stirred the vast plains of Valinor. To the elves and humans picking their way down the jagged mountain pass, the wind almost looked like a gentle hand, brushing the grasses one way and then another. From where they stood, peering down into the valley, they could not feel the aimless violence of the gusts or the toothed edges of the desiccated weeds. They could not taste the gray dust of a dead land in their mouths. Not yet.

They paused on a rock outcropping.

"Can you see it?" Brandon asked Elanordis quietly.

"It's just there," she answered, pointing off in the distance.

"I see it," Sophia muttered.

"You do?" Her brother looked at her, eyebrows raised, and then peered out over the valley again.

"Northeast end," she answered. "There's something shiny."

"The roofs are made of gold," Thranduil agreed from close behind, startling both siblings, who had not heard his approach. "And the streets are silver."

"Is it really covered with bells?" Brandon asked, somewhat breathlessly, and Thranduil nodded.

Sophia glanced at him, clenching her jaw to keep from screaming. Bells? They were riding into a battle they were unlikely to survive, and he was excited about bells? Seriously? And it didn't even matter if they won or lost - the Earth would end, either way. All the cities and mountains, the trees and oceans. The places of her own life - Los Angeles, where everyone glittered with the surety of their own bright future, her desert refuge, the elven Paradise - all of it would end, no matter what. She would end.

And she didn't even care.

Because all Sophia could think about, all the time, was the absence of Legolas - it rose burning in her throat like bile. She felt as though she were always reaching for something that was never there, a yawning, dark hole. No, not even a hole. Just an absence - there were no edges, no bottom, just nothing where there should be something. She had figured that when someone you really care about dies, you have memories to cup your mind around and cling to, dreams in which it seems as though the person you've lost is still alive. But it was as if her dreams needed the anchor of the real person in the physical world, and now that he was gone, the full-color memories had gone sepia and were slipping through her fingers. She would rather end, she realized grimly, than live with this nothingness, no matter what happened next.

But that was not Brandon's fault, she realized. Not entirely.

Sophia shook her head absently, dislodging that last thought and clenching her teeth hard. And she tried to ignore the tiny trill of hope she felt under her sternum, that maybe what the elves had told her was true. That he could come back. It seemed unlikely. Just the kind of thing mothers tell their children so they won't have nightmares. Or elves tell their mortals.

She scanned the plains to the west of the sparkling roofs, soon spotting what she was looking for. Rising up abruptly out of the meadows between them and the shining city was a lone hill. A patchwork of green and tan grasses clung to its gentle slopes, until about halfway up, where there was only barren ground, cresting to a blasted and blackened crater. She turned and looked at Feanor, whose face was still, only the banked furnace glowing in his eyes hinting that he knew this place. He glanced at Sophia, and inclined his head.

"Ezellohar," he answered her unasked question.

They soon resumed picking their way down the mountain pass, with Feanor and Thranduil in the lead. Galadriel had gone ahead with Elrond and a handful of soldiers days ago. They could move much faster without mortals in their company, and the elven queen was in a hurry to get to her injured husband.

Once they reached the valley floor, the heat seemed to choke up out of the hardened earth. The grass was taller than it had looked from above, slashing at the horse's chests and scratching their riders' calves and knees. The elves almost seemed to be swimming through the fields.

Thranduil looked around uneasily, meeting the eye of his new captain of the guards.

"I don't like it," Feren whispered in Sindaran. "There is too much growth. It feels wrong."

"He is worried about an ambush?" Feanor murmured. Thranduil nodded. "With good reason," Feanor agreed, "but there is really no choice. Stay close to the children."

"What are they saying?" Sophia quietly asked Elanordis.

"Don't know about Feanor - I never learned Quenyan. But the other one thinks this grass is too tall." She frowned and looked around them. "He's right. It would be easy to hide in here."

Brandon and Sophia looked at each other. "Whatever happens," Brandon said softly, "we have to stick together. You, too, Ela. I can't do this without you." She nodded gravely, but they all fell into an uneasy silence at that point, picking their way across the fields, eyes slitted against the swirling grit.

"Something is coming," Sophia hissed.

"It is Galadriel," a low voice came from behind her. Once again, Thranduil had surprised her.

"Now your horse walks silently, too?" She groused. "You should wear a bell or something - maybe they'll have an extra one for you in Valinor."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "Kings," he replied loftily, "do not wear cowbells," but he smiled slightly at her. There was a time in his life when he would have made it abundantly clear he did not appreciate being likened to livestock, but now he was just relieved that the young human seemed to be recovering a little of her spirit.

"Pride goeth before the fall," he murmured.

"What?" Sophia asked sharply, frowning up at him.

Thranduil shook his head. "We should keep moving."

As they picked their way across the field, a host of elves was streaming toward them from the shining city behind the hill.

"Ride!" Galadriel cried, the dim light somehow still reflecting bright and white off her armor. "We must reach them first! Faster!" The horses were frothing and heaving, but didn't falter or balk. Both elf and equine could sense the malignant energy gathering around them.

Across the field, Feanor inhaled sharply and looked up.

"Go!" He suddenly shouted, slapping Sophia's horse on the hindquarters. "To Ezellohar, as fast as you can!"

The horse startled and then shot forward, nearly dumping Sophia on the ground. By the time she was settled more securely in the saddle, Brandon and Elanordis had caught up, right behind her, and Thranduil and Feanor were galloping alongside them.

"Do not stop for anything!" Thranduil shouted at them. He glanced at Feanor, who leaned forward, grim-faced. Feanor turned briefly, and as soon as they made eye contact, Thranduil understood that they were not going to make it to Ezehollar. He squinted off to the east, and caught Feanor's eye again, jerking his head slightly to the left. They would move instead toward the Valmar host. They might not make it to the mountain before Melkor's force reached them, but if they could unite the Simarils and the rings, they would have a powerful advantage.

_I just hope it's enough_, he thought. Eru, he prayed, for the first time in more years than he could count, _let it be enough._

He could just see the glint of Galadriel's armor, realizing with shock that her silver-haired husband rode next to her, when the clouds covered the sun and even her radiance dimmed. Deep shadows spread like rising floodwater across the fields, and as the grass fell to darkness, Orcs almost seemed to rise right up out of the ground.

Feanor wheeled around and stood in his stirrups, sword held high. "Tell them to unshield the Silmarils!" He shouted at Thranduil.

"But they'll know - they'll know where the stones are!"

"They already know!" He screamed. "Tell them! Now!"

Brandon and Sophia may not have spoken Quenyan, but Silmaril was the same in any language, and they both immediately understood what Feanor wanted.

_Well, shit_. Sophia thought. _How am I going to fight with this thing in my hand?_ She winced at the blue and purple light flaring through her fingers and glanced at Thranduil. He was pointing frantically to his chest, and she looked at him confused.

"Your armor!" He had time to shout before the seething horde was on him, snarling and howling. She watched him, open-mouthed for a moment, as he slashed through the air, with a sword in each hand, decapitating multiple orcs with a stroke, moving so fast she could hardly see the blades. The oncoming crush of beasts briefly fell back, before rushing at him again.

She shook herself, and looked down at the filigreed mithril bands that crossed her armor over the chest, realizing they were not just decoration; there was a slot in between them, where the bands crossed. She pushed the stone into the slot, and it clicked into place, beaming gently through a grill in the bands.

Brandon had seen the whole thing and already had the fire stone firmly lodged in his own armor, a halo of the yellow and orange dancing around him. Elanordis was battling Orcs right behind him, but the beasts seemed to shrink back when they saw the light of the Silmaril.

Feanor and Thranduil were wasting no time in taking advantage of the confusion and pushed forward. They could all see Galadriel and now Earendill nearing their position. The star stone shone on his brow, its pure light cutting through the gloom.

_On to Ezellohar_! Sophia winced as Melian's voice boomed in her mind. In fact, she almost missed the faint buzzing swirling around them, but felt a tug, almost a compulsion from the ring, no doubt also from Melian, and she willed a shield to rise around her. Soon, a huge purple dome hovered over the elves, with the tiny machines pelting and pinging across the top, some dropping through with little trails of smoke behind them. But the Orcs continued to surge toward them.

_It doesn't work as well here_, she realized with horror, wondering if they would even be able to keep shorting out the drones out for long.

Then she saw a flickering in the sky out of her corner of her eye and turned to look. Melian was rising up into the air, a nimbus of electricity crackling around her. She almost seemed to gather the purple light into herself, bowing her head. Then her head shot back up and she thrust her arms out, with waves of light, pulsing white and purple, streaming out of her fingers, so brightly Sophia had to cover her face with her hands. The rattling of the tiny shattered machines was like an avalanche down a cliff, and the Orcs screamed and groaned, cowering on the ground and shielding their eyes.

"Keep moving!" Thranduil cried out, and Sophia realized with a start that she had stopped to watch.

As she urged the horse to move, she could feel a trembling in the ground, traveling straight up from the horse's hooves to her chest. She lowered her head and began an all-out gallop toward the hill ahead of them, not even bothering to see who was with her. As the trembling grew into a shaking roar, tossing the grasses this way and that, Sophia could not help herself. She looked back over her shoulder, and what she saw nearly made her fall off the horse again.

Melian was wrapped in ropes of fire, surrounded by Balrogs. One, two, three... Sophia tried to count how many, but they were shifting in size and shape, and Melian was clearly fighting back. Then one of the Balrogs broke away and began moving toward her, and Sophia turned away.

She was nearly there, to the foot of Ezellohar.


	30. Chapter 30: And in the End

_**AN: Here it is - the finale! Thanks so much for reading this story! And if you've lost the thread and want your memory refreshed without having to read the whole thing again, the chapter immediately before this has a long summary at the start. In the last chapter, the humans Sophia and Brandon arrive in the planes of Valmar, reuniting with a host of elves led by Galadriel and her barely healed husband. They make a desperate attempt to reach Ezellohar with the Silmarils...**_

Sophia was charging headlong up the steep slope when she heard Brandon cry out from behind her, sending a strum of fear across her rib cage. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see he had fallen behind, and the advancing orcs were too close. His horse reared and went down, black fletched arrows sprouting from its flanks, and she quickly wheeled around. Feanor shouted after her, but she neither understood him nor cared what he said.

The sky was so dark it was hard to see, and Sophia wasn't sure exactly where Brandon had fallen, so she just charged down into the front line of the orcs. There was no sign of Elanordis, either, but Thranduil was there, astride his horse at the bottom of the hill. Even in the murky half-light, his swords flashed, and over the grunts and howls and high-pitched shrieks, she could hear the chunk of metal cleaving too solid flesh. The next time she glanced down at him, though, he was gone, or at least no longer on a horse.

_Let him be alright_, Sophia thought, not even sure who she was thinking about anymore, _please God...Eru...whatever you're called, let him be alright. _

"Brandon!" She shouted frantically, as she swung her blade at the orcs, who shrank from the purple nimbus streaming out around her from the Silmaril against her chest.

Almost as if in answer, a scream echoed against the mountain, and Sophia pressed her hands to her ears, nearly banging the sword pommel against her own skull. She knew it wasn't Brandon; in fact, she was pretty sure it sounded like Galadriel, which couldn't be a good sign. The ululating wail rose, parting in a sonic wave around Sophia and crashing onto the orcs, who fell to their knees, covering their ears. That left only her and Brandon standing in the immediate area, and she was surprised to see he was just a few arms-lengths away. As soon as their eyes met, he surged toward her, reaching up. Sophia grabbed his hand, and he leaped into the saddle behind her.

They had made it halfway up the hill, the orcs still writhing behind them, when the ground started to shake, sending the horse stumbling to its knees and both siblings tumbling down. A fiery whip licked up the hill, wrapping around Sophia's ankle, burning into her skin, and yanking her down to the dirt. As Brandon tried to steady himself and run after her, she hacked frantically at the rope, but her sword just melted where it made contact, dripping molten metal onto her skin. Sophia screamed and dropped what was left of her weapon.

Brandon finally found his feet and charged toward her, as the Balrog dragged her back down the hill. He grabbed her outstretched hands and pulled with all his strength, but barely slowed his sister's slide.

He almost fell over when the Balrog suddenly froze and the whip went slack. Flames crackled from its mouth as it roared and thrashed, a line of white etched down its chest. Then it stumbled back, the sliver rent in its sternum widening and light pouring through. In just seconds, its whole body was swirling, almost as though it had been reduced to electrons swooping around and escaping into the air, as its solid matter completely dissipated.

Standing there, behind where the fiery demon had loomed, was a man, bent with age and all in white, with a long beard and pointed hat. He had a giant staff in his hand, the top of it laser bright. Next to him was Earendil the Mariner, the starstone shining on his brow, and their comrade-in-arms, Valdeglerion.

"Gandalf!" Brandon exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Go!" He shouted, stabbing his staff at the hill. "Go now, the three of you!" With that, he whirled around and flew down the hill, plunging right into the thick of the battle and whacking at orcs furiously with his staff. Valdeglerion shot the siblings a quick smile and raised his sword in salute before racing after the old Maiar.

"Not much of a talker, your wizard, is he?" Sophia noted, and even though her foot was killing her, she had to smile. Her brother looked as though Gandalf might have whacked him in the head, too.

Earendil gestured to them to hurry up the hill, but the ground heaved violently before they could go anywhere, and they were all tossed apart and flung like driftwood in a cresting wave. The oxygen seemed to press out of the air around them, and they all gasped for breath, clutching their chests.

Across the field below them, the shadows splattered across the ground suddenly rushed together. This time, the darkness consolidated into a single point, which rose in a funnel into the air. Pinned to the ground, unable to move, Sophia watched in horror as the ebony column took shape, wisps of inky smoke elongating into shifting shapes of arms and legs and the top of the column rounding into a head, a face, eyes like dark tunnels.

"No," Earendil moaned from where he lay pressed to the earth.

The battle continued all down the hill and across the field, but it was as if someone had put the fighting on mute. All Sophia could hear was a deep thrumming from the black column.

The smoke continued to swirl over the gigantic dark shape, finally merging into a more human-looking form. The face of the monolith seemed made of obsidian, sharp and yet smooth, perfectly midnight and yet glinting white as the figure moved. The creature was entirely naked - and very clearly male. _He is perfect_...Sophia thought, muddy and vague, as if she were half-asleep..._as perfect as a Michelangelo carving. Even more beautiful than the elves._

Suddenly, the giant smiled, his diamond teeth glittering.

"Of course I am more beautiful, child," his voice buzzed at the base of her skull, and she was not sure if she was the only one hearing him, or if everyone left in the world was hearing him. "I am Melkor. I am God. They are nothing." He flicked his fingers, and Earendil cried out, writhing across the hill, blood streaming from his nose and eyes.

"Make him stop talking," Sophia whimpered, pressing her temples, which ached from the pressure of the giant's voice.

"Stop talking?" Brandon gasped. "Who?"

"He cannot hear me, little one," the voice echoed in her mind, more softly this time, and the intense pressure relented slightly. "Only you can hear me." The shining god stared at her, still smiling.

"Your rage," he crooned, "it calls to me... Anger...Grief... A lifetime of resentment for a father who left and a mother who never loved you... Ah," he took in a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes. "I had forgotten the power of human emotion. So primitive... So raw... So...intoxicating."

Melkor spread toward them like an oil slick. Sophia pulled against the gravity holding her down and managed to crawl, crablike, backward up the slope for a few inches, every fiber of her vibrating with fear.

"You have no need to be afraid," the voice now rippled across her mind, soothing, gentle, and Sophia stopped struggling and lay still on the hillside. She could see his eyes better now, no longer dark holes, but an improbable deep, Caribbean blue.

_He's almost human_, she thought. _More so than the elves. With their true faces, at any rate._

"That is correct," he purred in her mind. "They do not trust you to see what they really look like, do they? They will not be able to manipulate you as easily if you fear them." He laughed softly.

_Probably fair,_ Sophia conceded, remembering how Thranduil had dropped his illusions when he wanted to goad her into fighting. She shuddered at the memory of his skull and sinew showing through his skin. The predatory light in his alien eyes.

"I promise you," Melkor whispered, "this is my true face, as I was at my creation."

Suddenly, Sophia felt fingers wrapping around her ankle, pressing into the rope burn the Balrog had left on her skin. She gasped at the pain and looked down. Down? When had she stood up?

"Soph," Brandon gurgled at her. He was bent sideways against the ground, but had somehow managed to get a hand free. "Soph," he repeated, "stay with me!"

"I'm not going anywhere," she said testily, shaking his hand off her foot, "and you're hurting me."

"You were walking toward Melkor," he wheezed, "with this weird, blank look on your face."

"I was?" She said, shaking her head, which felt muffled, as though she were wearing a six-inch thick hood.

_You must close your mind to him! _Melian's voice suddenly urged her. _Remember how to do it? When you were angry at Legolas? You must do that now. Close your mind!_

Sophia winced and thought that Melian needn't shout at her quite so loud, but she did as the Maiar urged her, anyway. Why had she been so angry at Legolas? She couldn't even remember anymore.

"No," Brandon muttered, somewhere off to her side, "oh, oh no." Sophia followed his horrified stare to see Melian hovering in the air between them and Melkor, surrounded by elven knights. No, not elves, at least not all of them. It was Braichon and his changelings.

Melkor laughed again, though it would be difficult to imagine a less joyous sound. "Little Maiar," he rumbled, "the least of your kind. Do you really think you can stop me? Even Eru himself could not stop me - and this is your army?" Melian froze in midair, motionless.

"My great-grandmother stopped you," Elrond announced calmly, emerging from the midst of the changelings and charging at Melkor. He thrust his sword right into the Valar's foot.

Melkor lowered his head and stared at Elrond, ignoring the blade, a growl rising from his guts. "She," he spit out, "did not stop me. She seduced me and then betrayed me. The fault was mine, the choice was mine, to want her." Elrond hesitated, clearly startled by the giant's words.

Melkor smiled a slow, crocodile grin. "That's right, Elrond half-elven. Are you so sure the difference in you, the darkness in your heart, is your human heritage? Can this pallid excuse of divinity," he pointed at Melian, still suspended in front of him, "truly explain all the power you have? Are you certain you know who fathered your line?"

Elrond staggered backwards.

"Besides," Melkor shrugged nonchalantly, "she is not even dust on the wind now, and I am still here." He flung his hand out toward Elrond, his massive fingers pointed like claws, and Elrond crumpled into a ball, moaning.

"You lie!" Melian shrieked, breaking free and blasting the ancient creature with a torrent of ice, which he lazily flicked away with little blooms of flame, scattering the hobbit warriors in an eruption of shrieks. Then he lunged out, closing his hand around Melian's throat. He was laughing as she scrabbled helplessly at his fingers, until he suddenly staggered forward.

"What is this?" Melkor roared, twisting to see behind him, never loosening his hold on the unfortunate Maiar, now limp in his massive hand.

"For my husband," Galadriel cried, her bright form winking in and out as she dashed around the shining god, slashing again and again as the pint-sized warriors rallied around her.

The ground shook with Melkor's fury as he tried to strike out at Galadriel, who was radiant with an angry light. She successfully managed to evade him, striking him again and again, until finally, he caught her, pinning her under a massive foot.

"Now," he thundered, "I have you..."

"No," came a shout. "You will not harm her!" Feanor charged onto the field in front of Melkor, his black hair streaming around him.

"Really," Melkor sighed. "Are you going to keep attacking me one at a time?" Melkor cocked his head to the side. "Wait, did I not kill you already?" He raised his eyebrows at Feanor, shaking black dust off his hand.

"Morgoth! You were too cowardly to face me before," Feanor shouted, shaking his spear. "But not today. Today, I will have vengeance for my father, for my children, you demon!"

"I think not, dead son of a dead king. Come, let me kill you again." Melkor strode toward the blazing elf, leaving Galadriel ground into the dirt in his wake. "Tell your father I send my greetings."

Feanor struck at Melkor with the massive spear he wielded with both hands, and Sophia was shocked to see the giant's skin tear, golden ichor leaking down his side. Galadriel was soon back up on her feet, too, standing beside her uncle, with Elrond joining the fight. The mountain trembled as Melkor screamed his rage.

"Sophia," Brandon hissed urgently, "Sophia!" Brandon, she realized, was crawling toward her, no longer pinned to the ground.

"We have to get to Earendil," he whispered urgently. "It's our only hope."

"I don't think I can," she whispered back. She was on her feet, but her entire body felt limp and heavy.

"We have to," Brandon said, finally pushing himself up off the ground at her side and grabbing her shoulder. She felt warmth where his fingers touched her, and as he slid his hand down her arm, taking her hand, the warmth spread from her arm to her chest.

"Where's Elanordis?" She said, looking past him. Brandon closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.

"Okay," she said quickly, voice husky. "Okay. Okay. Let's go," she nodded across the hill, where they could see the blond mariner, lying in a heap.

They both ducked down low and skittered across the mountain, against the boom and clash of the great battle, the sparks and flash of metal on metal. Earendil was face down in the scrubby grasses, and when they managed to turn him over, his body was still and his face covered in blood.

"No pulse," Brandon said quietly, his fingertips light against Earendil's neck.

"Oh no," Sophia moaned. "What do we do now? What do we do?"

Brandon suddenly grabbed her arm and shook it. "Look," he commanded softly.

Sophia followed his gaze to Earendil's face. On his brow, the starstone was shimmering, a flickering white light, almost like it had a heartbeat of its own. Brandon glanced up at her, and her eyes widened. All three silmarils were shining and pulsing in time now, the blue and purple light streaming out of the grill in her armor, and a sunset orange glow dancing around her brother. Sophia pushed at the stone in her breastplate, struggling to pop it back out of its metal case, finally dislodging it. Brandon clutched the firestone in his hand, and together, they touched their stones gently to the starstone on Earendil's forehead. They crouched there, staring at the joined stones for what seemed like hours.

"Nothing happened," Sophia finally said, her voice flat.

"We don't know that," Brandon cut her off fiercely. "Give it time."

"We don't have time," she snapped standing up and grabbing Earendil's discarded sword off the ground. She nodded toward the battle below them.

Down in the field, Feanor continued to charge at Melkor, but it was obvious now that the valar was only toying with the reborn elf, stepping easily out of the way and occasionally giving Feanor a smack with the flat of his jagged, black-bladed sword and laughing. They could no longer see Galadriel and Elrond. Meanwhile, orcs and machine beasts were now flooding toward the slope the siblings stood on, with only Braichon and his warriors standing in the way.

"Let's go," Brandon said grimly. "We can't leave them to die alone down there."

"No need," a guttural voice rasped from behind them. "You can die right here."

Sophia and Brandon tensed, but before they could move, a knifing sensation shot through their lungs, and they both fell, suffocating and insensible.

Sophia couldn't see, her vision clouded in a haze of pain, and she panted, tasting charcoal and blood on her tongue.

"Miss me? Hmmm?" Came the voice, much closer this time. There was a dull green glow against her eyelids, and she realized that Acharnor had found them.

"What do you want?" Brandon gasped, and Sophia opened her eyes a slit to see the massive Uruk Hai, his skin a pitted brownish gray, his nose smashed sideways and his eyes glaring red. The only hint that he had ever been an elf was his pointed ears, and even those sagged away from his head, as though the flesh were rotting.

"Nothing," Acharnor leered. "Well, only what I've always wanted: to end you. To end you all, filthy humans."

The Ellessarum flared, and it suddenly felt as though ants were under Sophia's skin, crawling and scuttling across her entire body, jabbing her with poisoned mandibles.

"No, no, no!" She screamed, scratching bloody trails on her skin. "Get them out! Get them out!"

"Iluvatar's favorite? Then where is he now?" Achanor crowed. "Only Melkor's favor matters, and that makes me your master. Burn! I will burn you all!"

The biting, crawling feeling subsided, and Sophia began feeling a flush of prickling heat rising in its place, bracing herself for what would come next. She was only dimly aware of a whistling sound and a solid thunk over her head, when the fiery heat racing through her synapses suddenly cooled and subsided.

"What? What?" Brandon wheezed. "What just happened?"

"I am here," Braichon said calmly, standing over Acharnor where he had fallen, a long dagger protruding from his left eye socket. "He will never hurt us again." He braced the body with his boot and yanked the serrated blade out of the corrupted elf's skull in a spurt of aqueous blood.

"Favorite knife," he said apologetically.

Sophia gave him a watery smile, sitting up with her elbows on her knees, trying to breathe normally. Braichon rubbed her back, looking down the slope warily. Andi and the hobbits, with Valdeglerion and a few other elves, were holding the orcs at bay for now, while Feanor continued to battle Melkor.

Suddenly, Sophia's scalp and fingers started to tingle, and she looked around uneasily, freezing as she looked past Braichon up the hill.

"Oh, shit," she whispered, her voice raspy from screaming. "Shit," she said more loudly "They're everywhere! There are orcs up on top of the slope! They're coming at us from both directions!" She tried to struggle to her feet, but was unable to get up.

Brandon felt his guts lurch, squinting against the iron sky at the line of shadows popping up above them. He clenched his teeth and closed his fist around his sword.

"Well, let's take as many as we can with us," he told his sister, reaching out for Braichon to get a hand up while Sophia finally pushed herself up off the ground, groaning.

"Not orcs," rasped a voice. They all whirled around to see Earnedil, eyes shining white and emerald green in a face dark with blood and dust.

"Not orcs," he repeated, and then, improbably, the elf smiled at them, his teeth gleaming. "Quendi."

Brandon and Sophia stared at their ancestor in astonishment, and then turned to look again at the shimmering forms now streaming down the hill.

"Elves," Earendil clarified, propping himself up on an elbow and using the hem of his undertunic to wipe the blood from his eyes.

Sophia had a sudden intense telescoping feeling, like a rush to the head, and swayed dizzily. The tingling on her scalp and fingers intensified, all pins and needles, as if she had lost the feeling in her limbs and it was now surging back. Her heart pounded. She cried out, while Brandon staggered toward her, his hands pressed to his chest.

"What is it?" Braichon cried, swinging around to look at Acharnor suspiciously, but the body had not moved, and the Elessarum was a lightless glassy jewel, hanging off to the side.

Sophia stared up at the hill. A tall, dark-haired elf with a thin, silver band around his brow, clad head to toe in gold-shot mithril, was striding toward them, flanked by two equally tall elves, one with silver hair and the other shining blond. Dozens of elves surrounded them in a triangular formation.

Earendil rose unsteadily to one knee, bowing his head, but the dark-haired elf raised Earendil up by the shoulders and used his own cloak to wipe the rest of his face, and then he embraced the Mariner. Sophia couldn't tell what they were saying to each other.

_Finwe is telling Earendil that he should not kneel, that Earendil is the blood of his body._

"Legolas!" Sophia cried out, looking around frantically.

"I am here," he murmured, and suddenly his arms were around her, his hands cradling the back of her head, and she could feel his heart beating against hers.

"Here!" She gasped. "Here! You're here!"

He leaned back and smiled at her, pushing her hair out of her face. His pale skin was luminous in the darkness, his long silvery blond hair gleaming. He was not hiding his nature, with his pointed ears and moonshot gaze.

How could she have ever thought for a moment Melkor was more beautiful?

Legolas's eyes widened.

Before he could say anything, though, the three tall elves turned to look at Sophia and Brandon, who was close behind her, Elanordis pressed to his side. The three elves bowed, and the dark-haired one spoke.

"Your forefathers, Finwe, the high king," Legolas translated, "and his brothers Elwe and Olwe, thank you on behalf of all the Eldar, for restoring them to the world. But he thinks you should go to the altar right now with Earendil and he should save his son."

"Your majesty," Brandon panted, bowing his head, but Finwe had already turned away and was loping down the hillside toward Feanor, his fair-haired brothers hard on his heels. An unending stream of elves, female and male, some in armor, some in soft, mossy green robes, flowed down the hill behind them.

"Come," Earendil beckoned to Sophia and Brandon. "Come!"

The river of elves parted around them as they climbed their way up, slipping in the ashy dirt as they moved higher toward the crater.

_I missed you so much_, Sophia finally thought to Legolas, flushing at the inadequacy of her words.

_I know_, he responded promptly. _I'm sorry_.

Again, she struggled with how to express her feelings. _Feanor said elves can only die once_...

_I will not die again_, her reassured her. _I promise. I did not much enjoy it._

Sophia shot him a sour look, and then glanced down the hill. She could still see the shining god, and she could certainly hear his furious roars, but he was surrounded on all sides by elves now.

"Did you see what happened to Melian?" Sophia asked Brandon, panting as they scrambled up.

"Melkor...scattered her," Legolas interjected. "He couldn't actually kill her - her essence cannot be destroyed. But he scattered her atoms across Valinor. It will take some time for her to reconstitute."

"Oh." Sophia answered. Brandon said nothing, but he clenched Elanordis by the hand, his knuckles shining white.

"Ow!" She said good naturedly. "Ease up, there!" Death seemed to have wiped the slate clean for Elanordis; she was not longer the diminished elf they had found more dead than alive in Tirion.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

Earendil, who had gone ahead, shouted at them.

"He says to hurry," Legolas noted.

They finally reached the flattened crest of the mountain, Braichon, Andi, and the hobbits following behind. There, in the vast, scooped out peak, a massive flat stone, like a Stonehenge monolith fallen on its side, sat perched right in the center of the crater. Earendil beckoned to them and they rushed up to him. They held the silmarils out, looking at each other, before placing them all together on the altar, where their light swirled and merged, illuminating the crater in a silver and gold sheen.

"Now what?" Sophia shouted over the loud humming noise generated by the reunited stones.

"We have to break them!" Legolas shouted back.

"How do we do that?" Brandon asked. Earendil and Legolas looked at each other, and both shrugged. Sophia almost laughed, but it wasn't really a funny situation, so she bit her lip instead.

They tried everything. A sword hilt. A boot. A fist. Braichon even tried his head, which left him groaning and rubbing his forehead. But nothing worked, and the stones were unchanged, a small tornado of radiance swirling around them.

"Well," Sophia said, scratching her head, "maybe if the elves defeat Melkor, it won't matter?"

"They can't win," Elanordis told her. "Elves cannot kill a god; only another god can do that. They can slow him down and even restrain him, but not forever."

Just then, a wild cry sounded from the lip of the crater, and orcs began pouring into the bowl toward them. There was a Balrog among them, his huge fire-limned form looming over the edge of the hill.

Earendil's face was grim, and he pointed at the sword in Sophia's hand. She hesitated, and then handed it to him.

_Stay with the Silmarils_, Legolas thought, _you must not let the orcs disturb them_.

_Don't leave me again_, she responded fiercely.

_I will not_. _I promise_! He called to her, as he charged into the line of advancing orcs with Earendil and the changelings.

Sophia's heart was thumping, and she clutched her hands together as she watched them fight. Elanordis was shooting arrows into the advancing mob, and Brandon stood vigil, guarding the stones and his sister, unarmed but for the knife up her sleeve.

Now the great stocky machines were up on top of the hill, too, and they could hear the whine of the drones. Sophia and Brandon threw out a ringshield, which shorted out some of the animals, but only slowed others. They hung in place, swinging their heads from side to side and stomping their giant stumpy legs. Drones crashed into the ground and buzzed off into space, as though confused.

_This would be a good time to help us out_, Sophia thought, hoping that Eru, the valar, or whatever would come soon. But there was no sign of divine intervention, only more orcs. Earendil and Legolas continued to cut through them, apparently without effort, stopping the advancing beasts and piling the bodies like a gruesome wall. Occasionally one of the orcs would make it past the shining blades, but they did not seem able to pierce the radiance of the stones and fell to the ground, insensible, where they were easy prey for the hobbits.

Something at the far end of the crater caught Sophia's eyes and she looked up sharply. It was Feanor, charging toward them, his spear in one hand and a sword in the other. There were other elves with him, and Feanor pointed one of them, who had long, bright red hair, toward Legolas and Earendil. With a jolt of recognition, she realized that Elladan, Elrohir, and Liriel were with the red-haired elf.

Feanor, however, ignored the fight and sprinted straight for the altar, his feet hardly seeming to touch the ground. He leapt forward beside Sophia and Brandon and swept the siblings into his arms, murmuring in Quenya and kissing them both on the brow. He looked to be bleeding from a thousand cuts, but his eyes were afire with the reflected light of the Silmarils and he was smiling. He dropped his weapons and reached into a pouch at his waist, pulling out a small rock hammer.

"I don't think that's gong to work..." Sophia started, but Feanor beckoned to her to stand back, and she and Brandon hastily took a couple of steps away, bumping into Elanordis, who watched Feanor with wide eyes.

His dark hair streaming around him, Feanor raised the hammer, and tapped it down almost gently on the gems. There was a loud cracking and the low hum of the stones became louder and higher pitched. Feanor struck again, and the gems exploded in waves of red and orange, indigo and violet, gold and silver, so bright that they all had to close their eyes and put their hands over their faces. The humming sound began to ebb and flow, like a church organ playing the opening chords of a hymn.

Finally, Sophia slitted her eyes open, squinting at the altar. Feanor was on his knees, his head bowed, in front of an enormous figure of a woman with a crown of flowers in her hair. She was shimmering, as if through the heat off a candle flame.

_Sing_! The goddess's voice boomed across the mountain. _You must sing now, or die with your world!_

Sophia looked at her brother, startled. "What do we sing?" She shouted.

He shook his head helplessly, and they both looked at Elanordis, but she didn't seem to know, either.

Then they heard it. A few, melodic notes rising from a single baritone voice; quiet and hesitant at first, but quickly filling the crater with sound. Sophia looked around and realized with shock that it was Braichon, his eyes closed and his face tilted to the sky. Soon, voices all across the mountain were weaving a complex descant into Braichon's song, or raising his melody up with gorgeous harmony.

"It's the hobbits," Elanordis crowed, laughing delightedly. "The _hobbits_!"

"Yes," the goddess said, from behind the altar. "Yes. A song of redemption. Only the souls who have suffered and been saved can sing the creation of a new world from the destruction of the old."

"New world?" Sophia asked, shielding her eyes.

"This tormented planet has run its course. Even now, the ground is shaking and cracking in Middle Earth; the cities are burning and the seas are rising. Soon, there will be nothing left alive in this place."

"But what about all the people?" Brandon asked. "What happened to them?"

"Eru's most beloved children... Even now, they stand in judgment. The unworthy will share the fate of Ea and fall to fire. Those found worthy will join the ranks of the changelings in the world to come. A few will be invited to dwell in Mandos for eternity."

"Wait, what?" Sophia choked out. "I have to die or become a hobbit?"

Yavanna's laughter chimed like bells. "No, brave one," she reassured Sophia, gesturing behind them.

They turned around to see another massive, shining being, who was watching them, a slight smile on his face. He shimmered black and white, looking very much like Melkor.

"Manwe," Legolas breathed, falling to his knees. Sophia, Brandon, Elanordis, and all the other elves on the mountaintop followed suit.

"Thank you for restoring light and song to this dark and bereft land," his sibilant voice whispered on the breeze, weaving into the cadence of the hobbit song. "The new world shall belong to the redeemed, and to their children. It will be the Age of Hobbits there, a place for simplicity and joy. A world of plenty, but none of the material fruits of this land that divided you and made you so destructive."

He gazed across the field at the thousands of rehoused elves, all kneeling to him now.

"Firstborn, your suffering is finally at an end. You, too, have a choice: you may stay with us in the Halls of Mandos forever, or you may travel to the new world, eternal guardians watching over the changelings. The Valar will not be present in that world, and so in some ways, you will play our part. Better, I hope, than we did ourselves. Dunedain, you shall have the choice of your forbears: mortality or immortality, and Mandos or a new life in a new land."

"What about Melkor?" Brandon asked.

"We will take care of him," the goddess smiled, gesturing to the edge of the crater. "Tulkas already has him on his knees. Again. Only this time, Tulkas will take our brother to face the creator himself, and he will find that even the ainur can be extinguished."

The song of the hobbits began to swell, and Sophia could feel it vibrating up through her feet. They stood, letting the sound wrap around them as prisms of light swirled through the crater.

"It is time, my children!" Yavanna cried, and the light of the Silmarils, of the trees that had died and come back to life on this spot, began to spin in the air, forming a bright circle. The circle whirled and whirled, until it was nearly 30 feet across and the center flared white. Sophia gasped and turned away.

Legolas pulled her into his arms. "Shall we go into this new world, you and I?" He whispered

She nodded, tears shining in her eyes.

Two tall, flaxen-haired elves emerged from the crowd, moving toward them, and Sophia recognized Thranduil immediately. The elf next to him, shorter but resembling the woodland king, could only be his father. She flushed at the sudden memory of what Glorfindel has said to her about Legolas's grandfather.

_What did he say_? Legolas asked curiously.

"Nothing," she muttered.

"Ah, well, I shall soon be able to ask him," Legolas smiled brightly, dipping his head toward the edge of the crater, where the knight of the golden flower stood, a dark-haired elleth next to him, along with two youths. He waved his hand frantically at them, then he clutched his fists together over his head and smiled broadly, and Sophia felt tears again rising in her eyes as she waved back to him.

A touch landed lightly on Sophia's back, and she turned to see Feanor, Galadriel, and Elrond.

"They want to say goodbye," Legolas translated for Feanor, as Brandon came up next to her, putting an arm around her waist. "They have decided to stay in Mandos."

"No," Sophia cried, tugging at Feanor's hand, meeting Galadriel's wise eyes, and then throwing herself into Elrond's arms. "You have to come with us!"

Feanor shook his head and patted Sophia on the back, while Elrond kissed her on the brow, murmuring gently. Galadriel embraced Brandon.

"My soul is weary," she said softly, "from ten millennia and more of ceaseless battle. I will rest, with my husband - and Elrond will finally be reunited with my daughter and his own Evenstar, but only if he stays in Mandos." Then she actually smiled at her uncle. "For him, this is a second chance, and he thanks you for giving him back his honor and his family,"

"Watch over my sons and my grandchildren," Elrond said sadly, pressing his lips one last time to Sophia's brow and squeezing Brandon's arm. "I am so proud of you both."

Sophia drew in a breath to begin arguing with the ancient elves, but before she could get any words out, they were gone.

"It was the right thing for them," Thranduil said softly, wiping tears from Sophia's cheek.

The spinning gate began to hum more loudly.

"There will be an eternity for reunions on the other side!" Yavanna cried. "You must go now, or the portal will close before everyone can get through!"

Legolas pulled Sophia forward, gesturing to his father and grandfather, who followed close behind. Brandon, Elanordis, and her family came just after. Sophia took a deep breath at the circle's edge and looked up at Legolas, who nodded, and then she turned back and stared at her brother.

"Together?" He asked.

"Together," she agreed, taking his hand and stepping with him into the circle of light.

No one noticed, as the crowd surged forward, that an Uruk Hai had crawled toward the gateway, gore caked over one sightless eye. As the light began to shrink and contract and the last of the hobbits dived hurriedly through into waiting arms on the other side, the dying orc hurled something after them.

As the circle collapsed inward and the light died, his mocking laughter was one of the last sounds ever heard in Ea.

EPILOGUE

"No, no, Claribel," a young hobbit clucked his tongue at his companion. "We've never been to this spot before, I promise you."

"Oh, Sanka," the girl giggled, "yes we have, a thousand times. This cannot be where the great gateway stood."

"Well," the boy answered, scratching his head as he looked around, "I'm pretty sure this is just as grandfather described it to me. Waterfall, check. Blue flowers, check. Eight green hills, check."

The girl rolled her eyes. "There are waterfalls, flowers, and hills everywhere, silly,"

The boy spun in a circle comically, and then flung himself to the ground, sticking his feet in the stream that gurgled past. "But not this waterfall, not these flowers, and not those hills," he said happily.

The girl laughed and plopped down next to him, dangling her feet in the cool water, too.

"Maybe this is the place," she finally conceded.

The two hobbits lay on the grassy bank, starting up at the sky and making up stories about the clouds.

"That one looks like a golden flower," the boy claimed, pointing upward.

"Well, that one looks like Miss Sophia," the girl declared. "She was just in our village last month, you know."

"Really?" The boy turned on his side and regarded his friend with interest. "Was Legolas with her?"

The girl shook her head. "She just came with her little girl this time."

The boy sighed. "I love it when they come to check up on us. Hey," he said, sitting up, "what's that?"

The boy crawled forward and reached under a rock, scrabbling his fingers around. Finally, he pulled his hand out and opened his fist.

"Wow," the girl said, sitting up. "It's so pretty."

"Yes it is," the boy said softly, examining the necklace in his hand. The chain was corroded with age and moisture, but the stone suspended from it was clear and unblemished, and a small spark suddenly lit in its depths. Soon, the stone was glowing bright green.

"Can I see that?" The girl asked.

"It's mine," the boy snapped at her, closing his fist around the stone and glaring at his companion.

"I wasn't going to take it," she said, sulking.

"Well, fine," he said, still suspicious, and tucked the stone into his pocket. "But you better not tell anyone else about it."

"I won't," the girl said sullenly. "I want to go home."

Soon, the two young hobbits set off toward their village, though only one of them would ever make it back...


End file.
